Time's up.

[Scolopendra]

WAR ANALYSIS AND NEW CONCEPTS COLLEGE
TEMPORAL SUBJECTS AND SCHEDULING DEPARTMENT
HAIMBOURGHA, TRIUMVIRATE OF YUT RESERVED REGION, TITAN

In light of the recent public and political interest in the concept of temporal weaponry, we've been authorized to declassify the general results of our theoretical research into the potential and probable counters to such technology. This research was performed in conjunction with the Scolopendran Office of Psionic Operations (SOPO) and the Triumvirate of Yut metanormal defense force HELLSING with the intent of determining the potential threats of the 'temporal weaponry' boasted by certain foreign powers, if these threats required addressing, and if so, probable counters to them. Thus, this summary is a declassified executive-level report on the broad results of these analyses, without going into technical or operational specifics. It is hoped that greater public knowledge of the science behind these systems will fortify them against the--in our opinion--mostly paranoiac descriptions of them being bandied about publicly.

In science,

Doctor Kello Vagt, PhD Four-Space Topography
Director, TimeWANCC

REPORT TSSD-WANCC 95-091 DISCLASS VIOLET (DISTRIBUTION LIST CLASSIFIED)
EXCERPT DISCLASS INFRARED (UNLIMITED DISTRIBUTION)

1) CHANGING HISTORY/THE PRESENT

The greatest concern to most regarding the potential weaponization of time travel and related technologies is the ability to go back and change time. After much research in this area, it is the official position of TimeWANCC that this is a non-threat for the following logical reasoning, [STATEMENT REDACTED]:

(a) Hypothesis: our current timeline is static; objectively, what has happened has happened and it cannot change. Only our understanding of history, via new discoveries, changes.
(b) Posited: if time travel technology is possible, then it is theoretically available to all time travelers in the past and future, relative to any given point in time like the present.
(c) It follows from (b): there are a finite number of possible time travelers from the past, but a relatively infinite number of possible time travelers from the future (with obvious hard limitations due to the heat death of the universe).
(d) Known: any time traveling to the past must, in relation to the present, have occurred in the past. This means that the events of the traveling predate the present.
(e) It follows from (c) and (d): there have been an extremely large number (ELN) of time traveling events in our own past.
(f) It is currently known: no events in our history are dependent upon time travelers.
(g) Known: we continue to exist in continuum from moment to moment and have not been unmade due to alterations in chronology, which would occur due to the very process of time travel (see chaos theory re: chain of events).
(h) It follows from (e), (f), and (g): there have been an ELN of time travelers heading to our past, but there has been no effect indicative of such a thing as would be required by (g).
(i)Therefore: time travel logically has no effect on the past in such a way that the present is effected. Since only one kind of past can result in our known present (see chaos theory re: chain of events), time travel must have no effect on our perceived past and actual present.
(j) Therefore: our current timeline is static; objectively, what has happened has happened and cannot change.

Quod Erat Demonstrandum.

Perhaps the greatest evidence for this logic is the fact that every unpopular person (especially oppressive and genocidal dictators) in history still exist in history, since they weren't preemptively assassinated by forewarned time travelers with high-powered rifles.

2) PREDICTING THE FUTURE

Since any time traveler would be observing a future they technically played no role in, as the time horizon of the prediction increases, chain-of-event chaos theory becomes more and more dominant. Returning to the present and acting on these predictions would also inevitably change to some degree the events predicted, putting predictions past those events in jeopardy. While there could be real application for this technology in terms of predicting natural disasters or learning about currently-classified technologies by moving forward to when they are declassified, this does not present an immediate threat and can be relegated to the research and intelligence communities.

3) TEMPORAL LOOPS AND PARADOXES

See Item 1) above. The inability to change the past makes the possibility of the famed "Grandfather Paradox" inherently impossible.

[Kaenei]

Lieutenant-Major Saarivan leaned forwards, glancing through the narrow doorway dividing the shuttle's cockpit from its carrying hold. A shrill bleeting sounded as the transport's sensors registered the enormous burst of power which heralded the HMS Spiteful's departure to who-knew-where. A tap of the piloting Kaeneian's finger and Toomas was once more alone with his thoughts, and the hum of the undersized engines aft.

All in all, it had gone rather well.

"We are broadcasting the transponder code," The Pilot confirmed, breaking Toomas' concentration and causing him to glance up. "Confirmed," His Co-Pilot frowned, checking his instrument. I am not detecting automated approach signals or landing lights ... The bay doors are sealed."

Levering himself up to standing and tugging on a uniform a little too tight for his gut, Saarivan climbed forwards. "Problems?"

The torpedo launched from what appeared to be the Lucky Seven's starboard airlock made short work of the distance; closing at breakneck speed so that the transport's sensor suite had enough time to detect, with several miliseconds to spare, the incoming ordnance and sound a single burst of the alarm. Those milliseconds were insufficient for any of the three Kaeneians aboard to react, although Saarivan briefly registered the most intense wave of heat a moment before the flesh was seared from his bones, and the bones pulverised to nothingness.

A few shattered shards of hull span away into the inky blackness, disrupting a cloud of engine coolant expanding out in a small halo. Waiting only long enough to make sure nothing remaining still lived, the Kingdom-registered merchant ship Lucky Seven D-Shifted away in a blaze of wonderful light.







"You have seen the broadcast?" Sophia said finally, several minutes after the screen in front had cut to black and the occasional burst of digital error signals. Unable to resist the urge any longer the Governor-General pinched the bridge of her nose tightly; wincing at the pressure which still served, in some small way, to provide a valve to vent the growing pain in her skull.

Riordan dipped his head, exchanging a glance with the Kaeneian opposite who stood-in for Vitras while the head of the KISS attended to other matters pertaining to the issue at hand. Calistar nodded also, folding his hands behind his back. "I am sure the galaxy itself has seen it ...

"Our official position remains the same. The Timeship was an experimental testbed for new technologies - we have refused to explain those new technologies in any detail. Unfortunately the Grummian announcement has removed the issue. I believe that the data supplied to the NDA has been used against us in this respect, by the Corporation Chair. While I appreciate the spirit in which you made such information available to our allies, Governor-General, I believe our original concerns were justified. Operational Security has been compromised.

Sophia could feel her teeth grinding together, "What is the cost?"

"Northrop-Grunman is a member of the Concordat and other organisations," Calister replied after a moment's thought. "If they have felt the need to reveal the information they have publicaly, there is no telling what has been revealed to other allies. Everything supplied during the meeting - everything said during the meeting - may have been divulged."

"There is of course, no proof as to what was - or was not - said," Riordan cautioned.

The Deputy Overseer of the KISS conceded the point with a nod, "Indeed. Not yet ... We are moving to investigate this fully. This is not the most serious issue arising, however. I find it difficult to believe that both the Corporation and at least one other nation has announced escorts for Skeelzanian merchant shipping, without first advising the Sternreich of the impending blockade ..."

Calistar burned his gaze deep into Sophia's pained temple. "I believe Phase Two of Operation Challenger, the blockade, has been compromised."

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

The diplomatic offices had not been idle. The next order of business was to notify their Triumvirate allies of intents.

<<Transmission Type: Titan YutLink, Encryption Level 5>>
<<Sender: Dominion Government Offices>>
<<Destination: All Triumvirate Members>>
<<RE: Kaeneian/Skeelzanian Conflict>>

To our Esteemed Allies:

We find ourselves embroiled in a conflict not only of interests, but of ideals. Our first order of business is to assure you that we have no intent at this time of being involved militarily. The second is our intention to support our mutual ally against the Skeelzanian accusations. We have been provided with the evidence that caused the Kaeneians to take the actions they have, and we will be making this information public. While we find the solution to be the less desirable option, the Serene Union has fulfilled their obligation and responsibilities under NDA mandate, and are operating within their rights. It is our hope that a diplomatic solution will be pursued, but at this time can make no promises that overtures will be received by either side in a positive light.

We hope the information to come satisfies, and that our intentions have been made clear.

With Respect,

--Cesare Calabrese, Dominion Chancellor

The timing could have been better, admittedly. But there was no controlling how quickly others could react, nor how they would present their own concerns. This was always a a problem when dealing with escalating situations, especially when they were so public in nature. All the same, an answer was prepared, and released over as broad an area as possible, considering their target audience.

Type: Open Local Broadcast
Origination: Dominion, Machiavelli, NDA Mars Dominion Offices

There has been a great deal of speculation concerning recent events involving the Skeelzanians and the Kaeneians, and what may or may not be happening. In an effort to assist clarifying the situation, we offer the following timeline and facts for your consideration.

• The Scoperta, an experimental testbed for new and unproven technologies, suffers massive system malfunctions and is towed to Machiavelli Station to effect minimal repairs required to get it back to its home port.
  
• Both the Dominion and Serene Union are sent a missive wherin the Skeelzanians express concern over what they perceive as a ‘time ship’, according to various readings and sensor information, which can neither be confirmed nor denied. The Dominion responds, thanking them for their concerns, and attempting to reassure them that talks were in the works concerning the decommissioning or disassembling of the ship, as the Dominion has concerns over the potentially unstable nature of the damaged ship.
  
• Roughly seven days later, the Scoperta leaves station docking under Kaeneian escort. At 09:27:43 hours local standard time, station long range sensors pick up an enormous expenditure of energy. Scouts are launched, to investigate, local traffic is diverted, last known flight paths are reviewed, and attempts at contact are made, without success. Our response at the time is a matter of public record.
  
• Dominion forces in the area of the wreckage are asked to stand down, Kaeneian forces take over search and rescue. No other ships could be confirmed in the area at the time of the blast, and as no immediate cause outside of critical malfunction was apparent, it is chalked up as a terrible accident. As reports trickle in, 4,814 Kaeneians are confirmed dead.
  
• Kaeneian investigation continues apace, as does investigation of Machiavelli and any pertinent interactions, areas, and potential risk factors by the Dominion. Offers for aid and assistance pour in from various factions. The Kaeneian delegation aboard Machiavelli makes a rapid departure. Offers of assistance are politely declined. A meeting is requested by the Kaeneians, and arranged on the station.
  
• Information is passed on as follows during said meeting: No survivors, confirmed. Three ships lost in the incident. Confirmation that the investigation is ongoing. Confirmation that the incident was not related to damaged it sustained in earlier testing. Four days prior to the incident, a report was filed with initial findings confirming that the Scoperta superstructure was sound, its primary reactor partially de-fuelled, and all but one secondary fusion reactor deactivated. Initial conclusions point to something changing between this report, and the incident.
  
• Some time later, Kaeneian forces are noted as increasing maneuvers, and adjusting stances in their fleets.
  
• An emergency meeting of NDA signatories is requested by the Kaeneians, and arrangements are made to accommodate.
  
• The results of the Kaeneian investigation are presented as follows: The cause of the explosion was the detonation of a device attached to the hull at some point between docking and departure. The device is deemed to be Skeelzanian in origin by way of bomb fragments recovered, and explosive traces that match known sources. This evidence is backed up by forensic examination data and metallurgical analysis. When put alongside the Skeelzanian letter of concern, it is deemed actionable by Kaeneian command. At this time, the NDA is alerted to the Kaeneian retributive strike being carried out against the Skeelzanians. While said actions are regrettable, it is noted that the Serene Union is operating well within its rights, and in keeping with NDA guidelines. In addition, their intent to begin a peaceful blockade of Skeelzanian ships and assets is put forward, to varying degrees of acceptance, in an attempt to put further pressure on the offending government when the time comes for discussion.
  
• While the Dominion attempts to independently verify the Kaeneian findings, the Skeelzanians launch a public relations campaign from Machiavelli, with outrageous claims of ‘weaponizing time’, and flying in the face of data gathered and put forward by the Serene Union. Public reaction ensues.

Which brings us to our current situation.

The first point of business: the verification of Kaeneian findings. Dominion agencies have found no fault in their methods or evidence. In the interest of transparency and cooperation, the results of both reports will be made available on request.

The second point: A nation who has perpetrated an act of war such as the wholesale murder of thousands of innocent lives of another sovereign nation, must accept the responsibility for and consequences of its actions. The NDA has always supported the sovereign right of nations to act in their defense, and to take what steps are needed to ensure their security. This situation is no different, and the Dominion supports the Serene Union’s right to respond to the Skeelzanian act of terrorism.

The third point: All rights aside, the NDA has also been a strong proponent of the attitude of ‘diplomacy first’. While this is not always possible, nor even feasible, it remains an option nonetheless. In the spirit of this, we ask that both sides in this conflict cease hostilities for the time being, and come to the negotiating table. At this point it is likely unrealistic to ask for any equitable solution as an ‘eye for an eye’ mindset can be all too common when emotions are running high, and lives have been lost on such a scale. However, we feel the attempt at least is necessary.

The fourth point: Speculation on any ‘time weaponization’ or ‘paradoxes associated with time travel’ are pointless. As the Scolopendran scientific release has so clearly pointed out, ‘if it could be done, it would have been done by now’. As such, it is the Dominion’s stance that while any such technology, should it exist, be perhaps undesirable due to the controversy it elicits, and the lack of any real benefit to it, it is not in and of itself the danger some would have us believe, and therefore not a reason to go to war over.

The fifth and final point: We both appreciate and respect the right of other nations to protect their interests. In regards to initial reactions over the blockade of Skeelzanian trade, we simply remind our international peers that Kaeneian intents in that direction are peaceful, and all potentially impounded goods will be returned to their nation of origin. We would hope that discretion would be observed on all sides should any conflict arise over these actions.

We hope that this assists in clarifying matters, and prevents further speculation and potential escalation of an already regrettable situation. Should there be questions, our offices stand by to answer to the best of our ability.

With Respect,

--Cesare Calabrese, Dominion Chancellor

[Midlonia]

"This is MBC News." A smooth voiced announcer stated as trumpets played to a rotating globe with a dove flapping in front of it. "With the explosive statement of the Skeelzanian leadership on the alleged temporal ship that was destroyed at the Dominon-run station of Machievelli being now backed up by the Grummian Corporation the sol-wide diplomatic situation is now described as 'tense' by observers towards the Non-Democratic Alliance."
The images of the Skeelzanian Sternreich's broadcast were cut through gently. "With the vessel being apparently confirmed by two powers with further refusals of commitment by the Serene Union to confirm or deny the vessel beyond being a test-bed for new technologies has lead to stock market speculation into arms companies seeing a rise of nearly 3% with various shipping companies also seeing a drop in investment by around the same amount."

The image changed to a stock image of a Kaenian cruiser at a distance. "The violent reaction by the Serene Union Defense Forces has shocked the international community drawing condemnation from commentators and diplomats in The Corporation and the Sternreich has refused to respond to the declaration of war by the Serene Union on the Sternreich."

The woman with long black hair neatly tied into a bun smiled as the camera finally came onto her.

"I'm in the studio with Solar relations Correspondant Christopher Donnahue, Chris. What's happening exactly?"

"Well Karen the whole situation is simply a Public Relations disaster. The NDA and The Dominion are renowned for their secrecy and diplomatic nouse and in this case it seems to have simply fallen to pieces." The man with hair that looked suspiciously moulded said as he gestured to the woman across the black glass news desk. "The ship in question, this supposed test bed appeared in a bad way and was towed to the Dominion run space station known as Machiavelli. A few days later the vessel was still not safe and they chose to draw the vessel back out and take it somewhere safer at a dedicated Kaenian military installation, the vessel was then destroyed killing nearly 5,000."

"Terrible, truly horrible that so many lives can be destroyed so swiftly." Karen said with a nod.

"But the problem is there's holes in the official storyline that has been put out by The Dominion most recently. The transparancy when they're renowned for their secrecy and diplomatic nouse is unusual in its self but the key here is where they talk about the ship definitely being compromised after leaving the station with the blame being brought against the Skeelzanians via the Kaenian investigation."

"And where is the hole, didn't the ship get destroyed outside of the station?"

"Yes it did Karen, but the problem is that they didn't find any kind of vessel near by while the Kaenian investigation insists that the cause of the explosion was the detonation of a device attached to the hull at some point between docking and departure. With such a vessel supposedly filled with technology would you not ensure your vessel is safe externally? There were numerous military vessels in the area that were NDA aligned in addition to the security from the station side itself. It certainly damages the stations reputation for security and subsquently The Dominon and Serene Union alongside it if nothing else."

"But surely every system has imperfections?"

"While true you think extra care would be given security-wise for a ship like this and things would be checked and then double checked to ensure everything was ok." The man shrugged. "Some say we should be glad this has happened as..."

"I'm sorry but we're going to have to interrupt you but we're just now being informed the prime minister is about to make a statement on the current situation."

The camera cut to the distinct dark blue door where the number 10 shone with brass polish. The door opened to the distinctive blond mop and portly figure of William "Billy" Bucknall.

"Friends, Midlonians, Countrymen and the people of the solar community." He began as the drone of the helicopter cut out as technicians played with the feeds.

"The recent events that have transpired have finally seen reason for us to act. There have been many allegations thrown around and many differences aired as well as theories on the experimental ship that was owned by the Serene Union and destroyed either by accident or via an act of warfare." He pause for a moment as camera bulbs continued to flash. "So we have chosen to act responsibly and positively. The Serene Union and the Sternreich are now locked in a war, with proposals placed forward that the Serene Union wishes to enact a blockade against the Sternreich over the allegation that they destroyed this experimental systems platform." There was another pregnant pause.

"As such we have chosen to offer the olive branch of peace to these two powers. We place at our disposal the mega station Hope and Prosperity for the purposes of a peace conference between these two powers and also to assist or lead an independant international inquiry into the surrounding events that lead to the destruction of the Scoperta and the consquent war." With that he raised his arms out in an open and clear gesture.

"We have placed forward a neutral ground for these powers to meet due to the need to eradicate war in all it's forms in our galaxy as a whole. We await their responce. We hope that both sides will accept in the interests of the greater good and the safety of millions, if not billions, of lives. Thank you."

With that he left to a chorus of thunderous flashbulbs and clamoring questions.

[Scolopendra]

Two different places on Titan...

Executive Apartments, Stonozka

Inside a decidedly Art Deco office building along the perimeter of the circular Central Park that dominates the middle of Topside Stonozka, the missive is received by the International Relations Section desk and forwarded to the top for executive purview upon the standing order of the padishah. She was, rather understandably, rather unamused that such a close ally as the Serene^Union--well, as close an ally as the Kaeneians could be--would be gallivanting off to war, justified though it may be. It generates... complications. She is additionally unamused that KISS apparently bested the Intelligence Section regarding this little experiment of theirs, especially considering how the Dominion was involved as well. Two angles they failed to see it from... ah well. It would've just been a curiosity anyway if there hadn't been all this talk of temporal weapons. The old hands in the Science Section and the OPO had both been chuckling about it, with the latter muttering something about 'Indra Prime' before keeling over laughing.

The charcoals were always weird, though. Let them have their little inside jokes. The Supreme Emperor did her best to read through her time-sensitive copy of 95-091; it was becoming a challenge to stay ahead of the self-decomposing pages. Suffice to say, the politics worries her more than the military aspects, and so she composes her response.

<Secure Communications>
TO: Nathicana D'Aquisto, Imperatrice, DLN
FR: Mballa Ipolla, Supreme Emperor, FSS
SJ: RE: Kaeneian/Skeelzanian Conflict

Imperatrice,

I recognize the difficulties the current situation places you under and have informed the Legislative Unit of the same. A resolution stating our neutrality in the current conflict, so long as alliance and national interests are not duly unharmed, is expected to pass later today. There is also rumbling from the LU to declassify what we know regarding the Kaeneian ship that started this whole mess. You're used to honesty from us, so you'll be glad to hear that honestly we don't know anything beyond what we've been told via Triumvirate channels and it is the opinion of my government that this really isn't worth any of our concern.

Of course, the world at large seems to think differently, but there you go.

I know the NDA is a closed shop; in any case, if you need any assistance, the International Relation Section and I stand by to assist.

Respectfully,

Mballa Ipolla
Supreme Emperor
Federated Segments of Scolopendra

* - * - *

Meanwhile, at the Hall of Justice...

Triumvirate of Yut Administration Building, Port Aurora

The TYAB is an example of swooping Googie architecture that rises above the rest of the city in an arcology of raygun gothic curves and expressive angles. It looks like what the future was supposed to look like a spell ago, which makes it look dated to some and dignified to others, but at least it isn't an eyesore like the headquarters of the TYCS in the nearby countryside. The TYAB is, as could be expected, the central nexus of the bureaucracy of the Triumvirate of Yut; however, it is much larger than it actually needs to be. Most of its internal volume consists of parkland, auditoriums, and other such high-volume low-personnel uses. The amount of office space is surprisingly limited, and it is limited by design; the Triumvirate, after all, is not exactly a government even if it is much more than an alliance.

If it were to be a government, it would be classified as a representative republic, with national leaders or their designates being the representatives. The Council can't always meet, though, so day-to-day operations are staffed by a broadly representative oligarchy of public servants selected as per the particular idiom of their constituent nations: appointed by the NDA states and empires, elected via plebiscite by the Federated Segments, appointed-and-confirmed by Karmabaijan and Berserker, so on and so forth. The members of this Policy Maintenance Council call themselves 'the Lower Council of Yut' and take on tasks between Council meetings in addition to their normal duties. They tend to do rather well at their jobs; if they don't accurately represent who they answer to, they end up being quickly replaced. It makes the Triumvirate more responsive, at the risk of being more functionally schizophrenic in its decisions.

<Secure Communications>
TO: Imperatrice Nathicana D'Aquisto, DLN; Council of Yut
FR: Triumvirate of Yut Policy Maintenance Cabinet
SJ: RE: Kaeneian/Skeelzanian Conflict

Pending a full meeting of the Council, the PMC is regarding the current conflict an internal Kaeneian affair. The CINCTYCS informs us that no assistance has been asked of the Combined Services, the Director TYSS and Director TYDC have reported similar from the Special Services and Diplomatic Corps respectively. As such we have directed Triumvirate assets to 'observe and note' the conflict and adjust operational capacities as necessary. To this end the Saturn Theatre has increased its alert level and the Titan Defense Force mobilized for 'maneuvers,' and the Solar Outer Planets Theatre (OPT) has increased its patrols and removed ships undergoing repair and refit (R+R) from their standard moorings to backup secure locations in deep space as a precaution. This will affect deployment schedules as the planned R+R will take longer than expected at these secure locations, but the OPT is adjusting accordingly to minimize impact and adjust logistic chains assuming a worst-case scenario. The Solar Inner Planets Theatre is also on increased general alert due to an unrelated situation centered around the re-emergence of Elara and associated Ardan mobilization; otherwise, the TYCS is operating normally.

The Special Services do not believe that there have been any leaks of secure information regarding PROJECT DOCTOR* but are performing internal audits to ensure that operational security has not been compromised.

The Diplomatic Corps is observing the political situation with increasing concern and believes that immediate diplomatic action is necessary to de-escalate the situation. It has, on its own initiative, disseminated the excerpts of the TimeWANCC report transmitted via the YutLink recently but is reticent to act further without official sanction to do so, as changing objectives or stance mid-stream would be 'extremely counterproductive.' They recommend a 'diplomatic science offensive,' coordinated with the Galaxy Exploration Command, Scolopendran Science Segment, WANCC, and Camp Restricted, to counter the concerns about 'time machines' and 'time weapons.'

The Combined Services report from their research via Camp Restricted and WANCC that time machines cannot be weaponized. They note that their statement is not qualified with an 'effectively weaponized;' there is absolutely no direct military utility to time travel. To this extent they do not oppose any diplomatic measure to ban time machines. The Galactic Exploration Command, however, has stated a mild disagreement with a ban, seeing how if these tools are harmless then historical science is harmed and nothing is gained by their banning.

Until further direction is obtained from the Council, the PMC will continue along these courses of action. We do request that the NDA-aligned Council members offer their official opinions at their earlier convenience so that diplomatic action can go forward.

Service,

The Policy Maintenance Cabinet
Triumvirate of Yut

*whatever that is. It's beyond our security clearance.

[Kajal]

The official policy of the Kajali government regarding the current "incident" unfolding between the Kaeneians and Skeelzanians was, unofficially, unextant. There had been no communications between Kajal and Kaenei with regards to such and, as such, what policy there might be was itself quite vague. Barring any concrete and specific information transfer, officially the Kajali viewed the entire thing as an internal matter and would not intervene in any military capacity.

Some were quite worried about the possibility of the Skeelzanian accusations carrying some hint of truth, and others were quite perturbed by the fact that KISS had effectively concealed the nature of the Scoperta from the Triumvirate en masse. However, given recent events within the Kajali sphere of influence it seemed reasonable, at least for the Combined Federal Services, to have focused attention elsewhere.

That focus had waned somewhat, in the aftermath and rebuilding following Large Spatial Anomaly One. That incident had been colloquially called "The timehole" even though there was no apparent temporal factor so much as that the "timehole" was the result of devices functioning as planned to censor and halt the spread of an otherwise massive fractal incursion that had been centered upon the Kajali homeworld. Who had planned such was uncertain; Whomever possessed devices themselves capable of causing such an event itself was also uncertain, though the CFS had deployed the Federal Special Forces Enhanced Special Operations Regiment to investigate (and, wherever possible, attempt to seal any further fractal incursions) and the situation there was well in hand, if extremely distracting.

It had also been quite some time since the Kajali government had become unresponsive, and largely replaced by the Combined Federal Services in day to day tasks. Parliament had been suspended pending the resolution of the LSA-1 incident, and having relocated to a secure location, the business of government could resume in earnest.

<Secure Communications>

TO: Nathicana D'Aquisto, Imperatrice, DLN
FR: Lirella Keral-Kavar, Imperatrix, FIK
SJ: Re: Kaeneian/Skeelzanian Conflict

Imperatrice,

It is with some concern that your missive is received. Nonetheless, the Federated Imperium asserts at this time our intent to remain neutral with regards to this conflict as long as the effects of such do not extend to harm alliance and national interests. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the House is quite alarmed at the level of secrecy surrounding the Kaeneian craft Scoperta that is apparently the cause of the current conflict. To be perfectly frank, however, I, and my advisors do not believe that pressing for further information regarding this craft would be beneficial at this time. Our official stance on this matter is, unsurprisingly, that we have no official stance.

I trust that the NDA is perfectly capable of realizing a lasting diplomatic solution with regards to this matter, and while the Federated Imperium is indeed not a member, as allies nonetheless we stand ready to assist.

With all due pomp and gratitude,

Her Imperial Highness,
Lady Lirella Keral-Kavar
Federated Imperium of Kajal

[Treznor]

It had been barely an hour since the Imperial Courier Iris had arrived in the Serene^Union and cleared for landing in Solarri, but Marcus was already making the ascent up the awe-inspiring Spire that dominated the capitol city. His escort was a slender young woman who somberly advised him he was to meet with Riordan Likonesse, Overseer for the Office of Foreign & Extra-Solar Affairs. Something about the woman bothered Marcus until he finally clued into her mannerism. She was stiff, tightly controlled and emotionally detached. He imagined she would tackle an assignment to clean toilets with the same attitude as she approached her duty as escort to an official ambassador of an allied nation. But that wasn't what bothered him. What bothered him was the fact that he couldn't read her at all. Once he'd finally conceded that his father was right about using his gift to read body language, he'd become so accustomed to it that it became second nature. To lose it was jarring.

"Do you like working here?" he asked casually, hoping to stimulate some conversation as the lift took them far above the city. If he craned his neck he could just barely see the massive defense turrets and weapon emplacements that surrounded the Spire. He hadn't relished the thought of what those defenses could have done to him had they not been satisfied with his credentials.

"My work is satisfactory," she replied. He waited a moment, but she declined to elaborate further. She stood at parade rest, her legs slightly apart for stability and her hands clasped behind her back. Had she demonstrated some emotion -- any emotion -- he thought he might find her pretty. Her long, dark hair was pulled back severely in a bun, framing the stark lines of her face and ears. There wasn't an excess of body fat anywhere on her body that he could see. She remained utterly still, not even a muscle twitch to betray her mood. Her control was so absolute she didn't even need to work at maintaining it.

"So," he tried again awkwardly. "You didn't mention your name when we met."

"I am Undersecretary Karena, Ambassador."

"Pleased to meet you. Call me Marcus."

"As you wish, Marcus."

It was like trying to hold a conversation with a computer program. He gave up and watched the landscape spread out underneath them. They were rapidly approaching what was informally known as the "Nosecone" where the most elite members of the Serene^Union government worked. The Governor-General occupied the office at the very top, a not-very-subtle reminder of the pecking order for Kaeneian hierarchy. Then again, given the way his father managed the Empire, Marcus really didn't have room to criticize.

The doors to the lift opened behind them before Marcus realized they had stopped. Undersecretary Karena lead the way into corridor until they reached an otherwise unremarkable door several meters away. She waved a hand over a panel and Marcus heard a faint trilling on the other side. The door slide aside to grant them entry.

Undersecretary Karena paused a meter from the over-sized desk that dominated the room and nodded respectfully to the wizened old man behind it. "Overseer Likonesse, this is Crown Prince Marcus Treznor of the Empire of Treznor, official Ambassador from Emperor Devon Treznor."

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

The direct messages were eventually received by their intended target, who reviewed them in silence. Curled up as she was on a couch in her private rooms, in a nation not her own, she was embroiled in a dozen different concerns and worries in spite of the comfortable and quite welcoming nature of it all.

That the visit overall had been going well, there was no question. That she had found herself increasingly impressed with, and comfortable around a good many of them was surprising. That she could relate to the Angsiyii on so many points was shocking. And that she’d not had to deal with the appointed Ardan commander over planned joint exercises was a relief. She’d done her best to try and forget about that incident, focusing instead on other things

Massetti had made a nuisance of himself over it all, however. He’d insisted she keep her Spook ear device with her at all times, if for nothing else, tracking purposes. And several times now, she’d found other more subtle tracking methods worked into seams on her clothing, a pair of her boots, and once even, a hair clip. The fact that Devon had let slip the two security teams were keeping in close contact had infuriated her, but her anger had been met with a cool resolve, and an answer of ‘backup’ and ‘taking no chances’. The man had become as stubborn as Marik had ever been, God rest his soul. She found it increasingly hard to fault him for it.

Keeping an eye on her daughter had been more subtle. She had steadfastly insisted on giving the girl at least the illusion of freedom, knowing these sorts of opportunities were about to come to an end for the most part. Nor could she relax and make her own decisions as to the people she was going to have to work with when she finally took the reins if her mother was constantly hovering, waiting to interject. Monitoring was done at a distance, and coordination with Alkanphel had been key, much as a part of her twitched at the concept still.

In looking around, she could hardly believe this was the same place she had feared for so long. Part of her couldn’t help but think it to be an elaborate trap – only two kinds of paranoia after all, no? Part of her honestly feared that it wasn’t, as irrational as that was. And of course, part of her was relieved. That was the part she tried to operate with most often.

Now if only she could feel as encouraged about the state of her alliance, and the course of her allies as she was about the overall Ardan situation. Oh, the irony.

After some thought, responses were sent, and the originals and her answers to them forwarded on to Calabrese for reference. Hopefully things would continue to remain calm, at least between everyone sans the Kaeneians and Skeelzanians. She wasn’t sure how willing they would be, but her faith in Marcus’s abilities to do whatever could be humanly done didn’t waver. Treznor’s reports on him had been glowing, and in many ways, she was not surprised. Hopefully she’d be able to hear his report directly when he was finished. In the meantime, she wouldn’t interfere.

<Secure Communications>
TO: Mballa Ipolla, Supreme Emperor, FSS
FR: Nathicana D'Aquisto, Imperatrice, DLN
SJ: RE: Kaeneian/Skeelzanian Conflict

Supreme Emperor,

I wish to thank you for your continued support, and for the usual calm and reason we have come to expect from our Scolopendran allies. Attempts at encouraging talks between the two groups are under way, though I cannot with any measure of confidence make any premature claims as to their success. Whatever else may happen as a result of the situation, I do not see the NDA and Triumvirate coming to blows on account. The dual membership of several nations has always been a point of concern, to one degree or other, but it has yet to become a problem – nor will I allow it to become one.

The world at large doesn’t concern me nearly so much as do my allies. So long as the rest take no aggressive stances, and continue to either mind their own affairs, or do nothing more than suggest diplomacy, that will suffice.

I appreciate your offer of assistance, and the spirit in which it is given. Should the situation expand beyond what we can rationally control, I will keep said offer in mind.

With Respect,

--Nathicana D’Aquisto, Dread Lady and First Imperatrice of the Dominion

A simple yet polite acknowledgement was sent to the Trumvirate Policy Maintenance Cabinet, assuring them that as things stood, the Dominion had no particular objection to either deployments, observations, or diplomatic efforts to assist in toning down the rhetoric currently being spouted from some areas. Any scientific matters they would of course be happy to consider via the Ministry, and their offices at Camp-R.

[i]<Secure Communications>
TO: Lirella Keral-Kavar, Imperatrix, FIK
FR: Nathicana D'Aquisto, Imperatrice, DLN
SJ: RE: Kaeneian/Skeelzanian Conflict

Your Imperial Highness,

I wish to thank you for taking the time to contact me, and appreciate the stance your nation intends to take. I would not be quite so alarmed at the idea of secrecy. We all know we have our secrets from one another. It simply does not tend to become an issue with the general public. However, your concern is duly noted, and in fact, appreciated. I can’t help but think that things are complex enough without having temporal concerns to deal with as well – but then if there were no drive to advance, where would we be? It’s a fine line we tend to walk.

It is our hope that negotiations will come to fruition, yes. Thank you again for your confidence, and for your offer of support and assistance should it be needed. I hope to convey more positive news on our next communication.

With Respect,

--Nathicana D’Aquisto, Dread Lady and First [i]Imperatrice of the Dominion

[Oyada]

Pethbrigg was awake in a meeting. This was indicative of just how important this particular meeting might yet turn out to be. For the preceding two hours he had, indeed, been quite awake, more so than he had been in many a month save when proceeding with the project that sat, in glorious matchy splendour, upon the lounge table shared between his and Zhilra’s quarters. The communiqué had gone to four separate places, having arrived at his desk: to the Emperor himself, as was merited by the importance of the entire matter; to the Ministry of Defence, who doubtless would by now be arguing among themselves between stealthily murdering every Kaeneian, and doing nothing and letting the foreigners fight among themselves, while shoving the data towards Imperial Security; the Foreign Ministry, who Pethbrigg knew for a fact would by now have filed it in the in-tray of an overworked civil servant and would not see it again for around six months, by which time it would be home to a flourishing colony of beetles; and a recipient of whom Pethbrigg was unaware, in the form of Naval General Headquarters, who were now thinking quite hard about how they might exploit the entire matter to their best advantage and drawing up various persuasive arguments to present to their political overlords, covering every option of which they could think.

Pethbrigg’s job, consequently, had been made rather more simple than when he had first sat in this overtly symbolic and largely empty space, with its gleaming metallic walls and spurious robotic servants (whom Pethbrigg most certainly did not trust); he had been well-armed with instructions as to what should be done in this case, and they stated the position in terms of crystalline clarity: condemnation, caution and, if necessary, obfuscation. Condemnation of the Kaeneian timeship, which, for all any logicians and scientific pundits might argue that it was no threat, it very well might be; caution in meting out a response to the Kaeneian threat, which was both real and obvious; and obfuscation as to what Oyada herself was to do, at least for the moment. Old habits truly died hard.

Amusingly enough, there was never any question in the minds of the Foreign Ministry, the Defence Ministry or the Prime Minister that Skeelzanian guilt was almost certain in the matter. Circumstantial as the evidence might be, the pieces fit together with happy neatness. But the Skeelzanians were far-off, unknown – and had done them all a favour.

Pethbrigg shuffled his notes, a habit he had picked up from his young aide. Zhilra was, at the minute, in seventh heaven. With traffic flitting between Shining Light and four separate departments on the matter, she was currently stationed in their quarters, parked upon the not-too-plush sofa with a large mug of hot chocolate (which she had laced fairly generously with rum), responding to and redirecting messages. “At least something’s happening,” she had said with a bright smile as Pethbrigg left for the meeting. He chuckled to himself, setting his flabby belly wobbling gently. Oh, for such enthusiasm! As he had remarked once again upon his departure, Zhilra might have cause to rue her pleasure before very long.

He had listened, in polite silence that was only made simpler by his rapidly-settling meal, to the Grummian delegate’s careful analysis and response to their situation; he had also discerned, perhaps, the countenance of the response that would be made. At this stage, he found it unsurprising if not particularly pleasing; it was understandable that the petite elf – or pointy, as he privately thought of them – would not wish to place her nation between the jaws of a great vice of steel. The problem was that, quite reasonable as Pethbrigg felt it was, it made her and her people untrustworthy to Oyadan eyes. There was only one way to honour one’s commitments, and that was totally; if one had two that were in conflict, one made a choice between them. He did not doubt that his masters would not be at all inclined to trust a foreigner who could not decide whom she should betray.

Still, with evidence to corroborate things, perhaps they would be more generous. A foreigner who risked his own safety for you was not to be discounted, even if one checked him carefully.

Pethbrigg’s turn had arrived, as a lull in the speech-making developed; he rose majestically to his feet, an amiable whale with rather too much love for drink, and donned a pair of horn-rimmed spectacles which he always kept handy for such occasions; lacking corrective lenses, they were merely for show, and they helped him to think and be thought of. Taking a deep and, with his inflated stomach protruding bulbously from his waistband, very difficult bow, an only partially false show of respect and esteem, he began to enunciate his people’s response to events.

“My thanks to our esteemed colleague from the Northrop-Grumman Corporation for her valued information; I will do my utmost to ensure that my masters receive its full import, and the risk that was taken in its giving.” And Pethbrigg most certainly did mean that; what the Grummians had done, though most would not comprehend it, was to invite the wrath of a power bloc far greater than their own, for the good of the Concordat; perhaps, indeed, for the good of the galaxy. Foreigners they might be, and pointies too, but they were not without honour.

“If I am to understand the situation correctly, we would suggest that the critical point is not the matter of legality, nor of intentions, save in one respect: this so-called time ship. I must here stress that this contention is most secret, and that it must not under any circumstances leave the room.

“Whilst I understand most fully the concerns of our esteemed allies with regard to international law, and their wish to maintain it, I must bring to your attention what will, I suspect, be the considered view of my government and, indeed, my people: namely that, law and its manifold vagaries notwithstanding, we owe the Skeelzanian Sternreich a debt of gratitude. The destruction of this… this… time ship is an act of aggression and an act of war, yes, but it is an act which will draw to us all more benefit than we might yet imagine in the heavens.”

He sighed a little, and took a long pull from the glass of water a helpful, soulless robot had thoughtlessly provided for his benefit. “Whilst I understand that prudence may well demand caution, it is the position of my government that we must not let this opportunity slip. There must be circumspection, yes, but there must also be action; in this case, that action should and must be support, however covert, for the Sternreich of Skeelzania in any effort against the so-called ‘Serene’ Union. It is critical, in the opinion of my government, that the Kaeneians’ present attempt to cudgel the Sternreich must fail. I shall be frank: so far as the Empire is concerned, and so far as His Imperial Majesty is concerned, the deaths of five thousand foreigners whose goal in existence was to alter the course of human history is not a matter for mourning. The utter destruction of that dangerous vessel is a matter for joy and, indeed, for gratitude.” Pethbrigg flashed a wry smile. “We do not, as you all know, deal easily with outsiders, but we do not leave favours unnoticed.”

He scratched his balding pate thoughtfully. “However, with regard to the details of such an operation, I must stress that our support, while doing its utmost to be effective, should not in any way endanger any of the present members of the Concordat beyond the minimum necessary risk. We must be cautious, but firm; without details as the Kaeneian blockade plans, for example, we should find it most troublesome to make any decisions regarding a suitable course of action, and both I and my government would be most grateful for any such information. In any case, however, I must re-iterate the point, tiresome though it may be: in circumstances such as these diplomacy takes second place to realism. It is of little use to look away from the man who points a loaded gun to your head; it is of little sense to ignore the other man who disables the first. I move that we must, however carefully, begin drawing up means to frustrate the blockade imposed by the Serene Union; that we must do our utmost to ensure its humiliation; and that we must proceed in such a manner as to ensure that our interests are not imperilled. I am confident,” he added, with another slight bow, “that our colleagues in Grummia and elsewhere should be able to furnish us with as much information as they have which might be pertinent.”

[Northrop-Grumman]

The Chairwoman’s fingers steepled contemplatively while the Oyadan representative voiced the opinion of his government and of his people, and she could not help but be pleased that the entrance of the Empire into this alliance had been a wise choice. She could certainly admire a people as unabashedly direct as this, ones who could discard the diplomatic niceties and worries of everyone’s feelings and get straight to the point. Ah, if only everyone was like this! she thought in idle amusement. We wouldn’t have half the bullshit we normally suffer through with these matters.

And when the Oyadan had finally closed out what he wanted to say, Siri seized upon the immediate silence afterward and began to speak, her cool demeanor taking charge over any emotional response she might have considered, especially after that strongly worded statement. “First things first, to respond to Mr. Pethbrigg’s request for information…I, nor anyone else in my government, is currently privy to any direct information from the Serene Union concerning their blockade, aside from that which was outlined within my first communiqué to the Concordat, and it would not be appropriate to request and disperse of any additional information from them. However, I can allow for the coordination of Oyadan forces with that of our own and exchange all useful data that has been obtained by our efforts in escorting these cargo freighters. I understand that the Empire has yet to have a Solar presence beyond its presently-stationed delegation, so this data would be easily obtained had you had the appropriate sensor apparatuses here. Also, I will freely provide this data to any other member military who wishes to see it.”

A slender finger nimbly flicked the datapad’s screen, changing the document she had to jot down her notes to one that she pulled up from the Corporation’s archives so that she could address her next point. “Now, if I may divert the conversation slightly from our intended course and address another issue that has been brought to mind thanks to Mr. Pethbrigg…as I see it, from all indications that have been given, the Oyadan Empire fully understands the dangerous implications of temporal technology on the universe as we know it and has taken a stance that reflects this understanding. Others here may not feel the same way. This instance may very well be their first interaction with the technology or their prior experience with it may have been overwhelmingly positive; I do not know each and every case, but I feel that this can be safely assumed at this point. One case that I am overwhelmingly sure of is that the Corporation has been no stranger to these technologies; we have been a part of alliances that have used them and have actually attempted to implement them in our vessels at one point in the past.

She gestured with the datapad before continuing onward. “I have here with me three instances out of quite a great number that show how damaging such technologies can be. The first involves a nation that we were and still are allied with named Indra Prime, whose primary mission in its existence is to oversee and provide assurance that temporal travelers do not begin erasing people from the timeline or even nations. It had been attacked by a foe named the Suchae, who operated beyond the boundaries of linear time…thus when this occurred just happens to be the main sticking point of this. Attacks were made upon our ally and their facilities in the past, present, and the future to prevent someone from travelling back in time to eliminate the foe, and Indra Prime was nearly destroyed because of this…

“There was also another recorded instance with yet another ally: the nation of Arenumberg, where they had used these technologies to travel forward in time, such as the Serene Union has done, and, due to their unknowing lack of resistance to diseases of that time, managed to be contaminated with a deadly flu and return it to their present era. Without the appropriate safeguards in place and without knowing that they had been contaminated at all, the contagion processed to infect most of the population and almost wiped out their entire race.

“Finally, there was a situation brought about by our own doing due to the incompatibility of temporal weapons with the systems aboard one of our vessels: the NGSS Vyetyer. When the vessel proceeded to perform its scheduled hyperspace run from the Criun system to an adjoining one, the weapons activated and created a ‘bubble’ around the vessel, propelling it out of hyperspace and regressing the time by approximately one-hundred fifty-five years. This may not have been an issue had the hyperspace window generator not prematurely deactivated because at that point the vessel was slammed into the surface of a planet. All life aboard was lost. Data forwarded by the Temporal Commission alerted us of the situation and wreckage found at the site in the present day confirmed this. At that point, we feared what would have happened had this occurred on a populated planet like Earth or happened to perhaps a star, destroying all life in a system. We decided at that point that temporal technology was not worth the risk to ‘get right’ and abandoned all further development.

“And to make sure that this does not happen again and that everyone here has an understanding of the effects of such technologies, I will provide freely the reports related to temporal technology that we have compiled over the decades to all of your governments.”

[Midlonia]

Hillcrest remained quiet, respectfully so during the comments from the Oyadans and the Grummians.

"The data would be useful, and may counter the present missive issued by the TYCS's own eggheads. The reality is there are a number of competing theories, not least the ones being brought about by our own Overseer computer network as well as the realities issued by your own government and it's research." He steepled his fingers and leant forward before poking a button on the screen as the relevant information was fed to him by an unknown techie, following his every word.

"The theories run by Overseer are thus. The original timeline, as we understand it is here," He gestured to the single bar that had appeared in the middle of the room around the table, again with the holographic projectors. "When you go back and actually alter the timeline significantly, or even insignificantly you can create multiple differing timelines." A second line in pink appeared before it began to branch off continously.

"This is in laymans terms and as best as I can explain it. There is the potential for one of these alternatives to intersect the original timeline." Which the image promptly did before freezing. "What happens then is anyone's guess. It's entirely possible that the fractured multi-verse as we know it is actually caused by others, past present or future attempting to use or are using temporal technology either to benefit themselves, or to alter the universe as we understand it."

Hillcrest sat back again and took a drink from his scotch before a second button appeared on his screen. "To move onto the military questions." He paused for a moment.

"The Midlonian government has offered to act as a mediator between the two sides in an attempt to broker a peace agreement. We believe this will heighten the status of the Concordat at the expense of other organizations internationally whom have decided to sit on their hands in the wake of a series of violent acts as well as a large-scale military action by the Serene Union with little hope of diplomacy or other actions such as condemnation or requests of restraint from those aforementioned powers." Taking another drink Hillcrest sat forward slightly.

"In short we shall use this offer to ruthlessly capitalize upon the presenst situation. The usual powers are sitting on an unprecedented PR disaster, if they do condemn, they are condemning an ally, if they sit on their hands, they are complacent in their allies running off acting as little more than heavily armed thugs with high powered weaponry." He paused for a moment as if in contemplation. "They are unable to act as mediators because they did not intervene early enough on within the present situation to be able to be seen as impartial observers."

He paused. "Should this action prove fruitless either on the part of the Serene Union or the Sternreich then we shall rend all aid necessary to the Sternreich, of all countries here we dislike the interupption of trade almost as less as our corporat-state allies."

[Kaenei]

With a grunt of effort and both hands wrapped tightly around the plate, Vitras hauled the obstruction clear and down to the decking with a loud clang of metal-against-metal. Puffing his cheeks out with the exertion, he straightened to standing and squeezed his eyes open and shut to drive away the stinging sweat. Free of its heavy, disc-shaped shield the heart of the Timeship was almost a disappointment - hardly worthy of the fantastical abilities ascribed to it across the solar system or in a half-dozen Vermillion-level reports and publications. It might well have been any other piece of technology found aboard a starship, from any major system or component.

It was almost a disappointment - save the fact Vitras knew precisely what the module was capable of.

Reaching inside so that his entire arm had virtually disappeared from view, he tapped a gauntleted finger against the front casing of the Temporal Distortion Drive. Everything connected to it; the vast engines which merely carried the starship across great distances, the greater frame which held the comforts and necessities of taking organic life between the stars - everything - was an expensive distraction. Some of the technologies aboard the Timeship were experimental, or too complex or labour-intensive for use across the ships of the Fleet Component. All of them however, were created by mortal hands.

Vitras was not a religious man and yet something stirred inside him to see this first-hand - something capable of apparently dividing the strands of fate and opening doors to places, people and events which were either ingrained in existence or merely an imagined idea in a single mind, yet to bare fruit. The expertise and expense required to build Temporal Core could have been spent to build a fleet of shining warships , bristling with cannons and weapons. A far more visible deterrent might have been created instead of pursuing what was, regardless of technical accomplishment a pipe dream.

Shaking his head at the folly, he tapped a palm against the communication grille set into his wrist opposite. "TDD Core located and intact; bring in the transport module."









After two hundred and fifty seven individual man-made distortions, the ships of the Fleet Expeditionary Force reassembled themselves inside the Sol System with a violent series of energy releases. Brilliant plumes of light erupted from between the stars as metal, plastic and organic life were painstakingly reassembled from hundreds of light years' distance away. Such was the perfection shown - and required for such a science - that those starships leaking gases to the void, armour punctured or buckled reappeared in normal space with their plumes of white still unfurling. Engines burning brightly dozens of enormous Conflict Carriers swung about, making for the rest and replenishment of Europa's enormous network of orbital construction yards and complexes.

Others continued on in-system, taking up moorings above Earth where their reactors could be idled and missile tubes emptied for a much-deserved, and well-earned rest. In accordance with the plans set in motion earlier, a dozen ships of the Second Federal Fleet broke their moorings from Europa, travelling out-system to begin their patrols and interceptions of Skeelzanian-flagged merchant ships travelling without escort. While Operational Security for the blockade had been dealt a hard blow, there was still a mission to undertake - even if that mission was now one of a show of force, rather than economic warfare.









Riordan glanced up from the datapad held in his gnarled hands, as the doors to his office swung open. Taking a second glance at the pad and twisting his mouth in a small frown the Kaeneian shrugged silently to himself, setting it down on the tabletop and forming a steeple with his fingers.

"Crown-Prince Marcus Treznor," He said softly, cocking his bald head to the side. "It is not often we receive royalty ... To what do I owe this historical first?"

[Treznor]

Riordan glanced up from the datapad held in his gnarled hands, as the doors to his office swung open. Taking a second glance at the pad and twisting his mouth in a small frown the Kaeneian shrugged silently to himself, setting it down on the tabletop and forming a steeple with his fingers.

"Crown-Prince Marcus Treznor," He said softly, cocking his bald head to the side. "It is not often we receive royalty ... To what do I owe this historical first?"

Marcus blinked quickly as he considered his response. Overseer Riordan wasn't nearly so reserved as the Undersecretary, and his disapproval was plain for all to see.

"My apologies for this abrupt intrusion, Overseer," he began slowly. "My father thought it wise for me to make the rounds and introduce myself, but the conflict with Skeelzania warranted a less informal approach. To put it plainly, I'm here to see how the Empire can help you bring an end to it. Of course, we have nothing significant in the way of military elements capable of interplanetary flight. What will the Serene^Union accept as appropriate punishment or compensation for the tragedy that occurred off Machiavelli Station? What do you require before you agree that Skeelzania has been punished?"

[Kaenei]

"Unfortunately Marcus that decision is above my paygrade," The Overseer replies, the slightest ghost of a smile passing over his features. "Only the Governor-General has the power to make war and peace, and while the Federal Council has a fully advisory position, it can only ultimately make suggestions, no matter how strong that suggestion might be.

"It is my own understanding that aside from the blockade planned with the assistance of The Kingdom and the Pan-Norm of S-14, the Governor-General does not intend to sanction further military action. Our Fleet Task Force returned this morning from our initial strike against Skeelzanian assets; to my knowledge we are not planning any further strikes. You will forgive me, hopefully, if I seem reticent to share the details more fully ... We presented much sensitive information to the NDA and it appears at least one of our number, Northrop-Grumman, chose to spread that information further than we had intended."

He shrugged his shoulders slightly, "Once bitten, twice shy."

"If you refer to what it will take to end the formal State of War, I can only speak as a Foreign Minister ... A declaration of responsibility and apology from the lawful Skeelzanian government would go a long way to creating a peace between us. Still such a missive is probably as likely as you entering this office to find me juggling cats. I will not pretend that there is not a powerful minority here, in the Spire, who believe that we are being tested by a "young", aggressive foreign power. That we are being prodded to see if we will react. I am inclined to understand that view, if not quite support it - the Skeelzanians are hardly famed for their understanding, patience or tolerance for things they do not approve of."

[Treznor]

Marcus waved his hand casually. "It's fine, Overseer. I don't need details on the Serene^Union's military operations. My focus is how to bring them to an end amicably. You've at least answered the question of what will satisfy your government's quest for retribution. Perhaps you can answer what will happen if the Skeelzanians maintain their innocence, followed by the defense of their shipping. I can't see any outcome beyond escalation into a lengthy and costly war for both sides. It's one reason why the Empire prefers diplomatic solutions: my father always says that war is bad for business. Back when the NDA was originally formed, crusaders in the name of democracy would declare war on peaceful monarchies and authoritarian states for the stated crime of being a dictatorship. My father hoped that an organization like the NDA would not only discourage those crusaders, but also make their accusations baseless. If the Alliance is seen backing or at least permitting your Federation to pursue hostilities before all diplomatic solutions have been exhausted, then we lose one of our primary lines of defense."

He sits back and maintains steady eye contact. "At Unity Island, your representative promised further evidence that the ship's destruction was due to a deliberate act on the part of the Skeelzanian government, that it wasn't simply an explosive of Skeelzanian manufacture planted by rogue elements or even an otherwise unrelated faction. If it was misdirection to blame the Skeelzanians, it succeeded brilliantly given your response. Have your people come up with anything more convincing?"

[Kaenei]

"You are being honest with me, so let me return the favour," Riordan began after a moment's pause. "You are asking questions that are well beyond my remit as Oversee of the OFESA, questions most likely beyond the remit of the Federal Council. It is the view of the Serene Union that the Skeelzanian government did knowingly, deliberately, destroy a military starship with the intent to force their foreign upon ours. I have seen the metallurgical and forensic analysis and you have probably seen the same evidence I have. While you did not ask it, I would tell you my personal opinion is in line without official position - I believe the Skeelzanians did indeed carry out this attack with the full blessing of their State government."

Riordan folded his gnarled hands into his lap. "I will not lie to you - I know the evidence of which you were promised, and I do not have it. If that is because it does not exist, or because it has not yet made its way down from above, I cannot say. I would ask you to consider this - the experimental ship's nature was known by a very small circle of individuals from an even smaller circle of nations ... If one considers that our KISS was able to keep the nature of the ship a secret from the Scolopendran Intelligence Service, the probable number of guilty parties responsible becomes very small. Smaller still when one of those culprits sends a thinly-veiled threat shortly before said ship abruptly explodes.

"Our nations are ruled very differently under the same umbrella, nominally, of non-democracy. Still this government rules by the will of the people to support it - if they decide tomorrow that they are tried of us, I do not think I will be long in this chair. The Governor-General is not a dictator, and she does not sit over the Union because it is her personal pleasure. She was a faceless bureaucrat before her promotion - most definitely not of the calibre of Devon, or Nathicana. That is no slight against her, simply a fact. As such she is bound to the will of the people, and they demand action of some sort ..."

Riordan's wrinkled forehead creases. "What would you propose if you sat behind this desk?"

Redirecting his attention down to a data pad at his fingertips, he quickly scanned the missive to be sent back to the Midlonian government; attaching his approval and authorisation to transmit.

Your request is appreciated in the name of stability, peace and progress. It will be given the due consideration deserved and if your service is required, we will endeavour to inform you at some point in the future.

Sincerely,

R. Lokonesse, Supreme-Overseer OFESA.

The Federal Representation for the Serene Union in Devras had once been a house of God. Hundreds had gathered to pray, attend sermons and communicate better with some great, unknown power. Those days were long passed however, and instead her interior had been remodelled to more accurately serve the needs of the dozens of staff assigned to help lubricate the wheels of government. While there were hardly billions of credits of exports or imports between the two nations, and immigration was a practical net zero, the ties in the form of the Non-Democratic Alliance, as well as the Triumvirate of Yut took a certain bureaucracy to maintain. That governmental machine was housed in a white-clad brick building boasting spires and a tower, complete with an enormous bell that had not been tolled for many years.

Looking out through the circular window granting a view of Devras beyond, the acting Federal Representative to The Dominion, Kristilanna Legealis, wiped at her forehead with the back of her hand. "I am sure I will get used to the heat," She said aloud, craning her neck back towards Enzo. She laid a hand over the bump which had now swollen to distort her slight frame quite severely. "Are you glad to be home? This is a beautiful building ... Devras is a very bright city."

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

“Well, I suppose I could adjust the climate controls if that helps,” Vettori offered, frowning slightly as he tugged his own jacket around him a bit more snuggly. “Are you sure you’re alright? Hate to say it, but it’s bloody cold in here already.”

He’d done what he could to both be nearby if needed, and to stay out of her way during all the work and preparations. It had been hell, admittedly. He had no legal standing, and was where he was due to their relationship alone. The man had managed to check in with his own holdings, accounts, and was reasonably satisfied that all had been put right as promised by his government. All the same, he’d been increasingly concerned as the weeks passed of his ability to do much more than hover.

Intelligence work was not his specialty. He was no spy, he was a scientist. And he’d been unable to gather more intel than what was commonly known about Vitras or the situation in general. And those few contacts he’d attempted to press had largely avoided him. He’d been blacklisted, plain as anything. Persona non grata, in his own country. At least with anything to do with official business, politics, or intrigue that he’d managed to attempt.

Granted, it was all by his own doing. Unfortunately, he hadn’t felt there’d been much of a choice in the matter.

“Yeah. No, really. It’s great to be back,” he said unconvincingly, watching her with concern. “Plenty of local color. Can I get you something, maybe? Some ice water? Frozen grapes? Maybe a cold compress?”

[Treznor]

Marcus stroked his chin thoughtfully as he considered his response. "When my father surrenders the throne to me, it's my intention to re-establish elections and create a parliamentary style legislature. I won't be ruling by fiat, I'll be ruling with the consent of the people. That's for the future, but I mention this so you understand I appreciate the position you're in. If you go against the will of the people, you'll find yourself out of a job.

"But in my judgment it goes both ways. The people put your government into power because they trust your judgment. You've already taken decisive action against the Skeelvanians. You've demonstrated to everyone that you are not to be tested, because you will respond swiftly and with necessary force. You've proven your resolve, but you haven't yet proven -- to your allies, at least -- that you've responded against the right targets."

He leaned forward and smiled. "What I would recommend to the Governor-General is that now is a good time to open a dialogue with the Skeelvanians. Not to accuse them of anything, not to demand apologies, but to see what they have to say. Maybe they have insight into the nature of the attack that we lack because of our distance. Maybe they'll slip up and confirm their complicity. We don't know, and we never will until you open talks. If they refuse, then we'll back you with everything at our disposal. If all you ever do is open fire on each other, I really don't see an end to the hostilities, do you?"

[Kaenei]

Kristilanna grimaced as the slightest twinge of pain circumvented her pelvis and crept up the small of her back. Leaning against the desk for support, she held her breath for a moment until the pain subsided back to wherever it had come from. "I am fine," She replied after a moment, straightening herself. Around the exposed skin of her chest and neck, as well as on her cheeks and palms the flesh had flushed itself a bright red - quite at odds with the normally alabaster tone. "It is a common side-effect of pregnancy ... At least for us."

Resting her hip against the desk, hands cupping the bump distorting her stomach, she turned her blue eyes away from downtown Devras and towards Enzio. "Where do your parents live?" She asked, quite unexpectedly.








"I cannot fault your conclusion," Riordan answered after a few moments of silence. "I believe the idea could be sold to the KISS if only as a ruse to attempt to learn more information about our "enemy", so to speak. Doing nothing, as you suggest, is unsustainable in the long run unless we wish to begin a bloody, pan-galactic meat grinding. We have no desire for total war ... Sometimes the more active tools of the State lose sight of that and require persuasion to see the glacier for the ice."

The old Kaeneian shifted forwards, voice lowering slightly. "It must be said, Marcus, that at least from our position the NDA can seem a trifle ... Capricious depending who is doing what at any one time. At one point the Serene Union was preparing to tender its resignation in regards to what we perceived to be a tolerance for the unacceptable actions of Iraqstan, in relation to the greater Alliance and its standing beyond. Not only were they able to continue their questionable actions for quite some time, but they enjoyed considerable seniority as part of the Ruling Council above us. Iraqstan did not - indeed would never, I suspect - go to the efforts the Serene Union went in calling a meeting, presenting evidence and duly giving all representatives the chance to answer us individually. Forgive me if I cannot help but sound petulant, because that is not my intention but it can seem that we are being expected to toe a line that did not trace the same path for others.

"I would never personally expect the Alliance to unquestionably back us, or even necessarily hold back negative opinions but I feel that suddenly some opinions are given much more freely than they might have been once upon a time."

[Treznor]

Marcus nods firmly. "You're right. The Council has been inconsistent, and that's something I'd like to see change. I think part of it was my father's affection for the Quil'rayas, but the official reason is because Iraqstan restricted their atrocities to internal matters. They didn't go haring off against outsiders unless they felt threatened or were part of a joint action, and my father stepped on them pretty hard when they wanted to do just that. If you were pursuing an action against one of your own colonies, we would agree it was an internal matter and defend your right to resolve it as you see fit, even as we would push for a quiet solution in private. From the records, that's what my father did with Quil'raya.

"Yours isn't just an internal matter, though. This involves a foreign nation whom you've accused of destroying your vessel. It's entirely possible that you're right, but we don't know, and that's why the Empire hasn't committed to full support of your actions. Until we have something more concrete we can spin as casus belli our policy is 'diplomacy first.' When we've satisfied at least the letter of the law here, we can move to support you more openly.

"Who knows what the future will bring? Once I'm on the throne of the Empire, we'll see what changes we can make to the NDA. It's already been pointed out that circumstances are different from when it was first founded, so it makes sense that our focus should change as well. But without a seat on the Ruling Council any longer all I can do is pressure and persuade, I won't be able to guarantee anything. We might achieve more working together toward that end."

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

She didn’t seem fine. In spite of her assurances, Vettori crossed the room to the small utility sink and turned the water on cold. He let it run for a minute while he talked, fishing out a cloth from the cupboard underneath.

“Afraid you’ve got me at a loss, regardless what race you’d be referring to. Haven’t the slightest what to expect, so I’ll trust your judgment on it – just you be honest with me, you hear? None of this ‘fine’ business if you’re not.”

Soaking the cloth in the cold running water, he made sure it was wet through, then turned it off, and wrung the cloth out before bringing it over to her. He lightly dabbed at first her forehead, then gently worked to help her face and neck cool slightly. His brow never smoothed during his efforts, and he watched her closely all the while.

“You should sit down, you know. Maybe put your feet up? Get comfortable in any case. As for my parents, well I ah … hrm. My mother, God rest her soul, passed on some years ago,” he said, continuing on more softly as he addressed the past. “Good woman. You’d have liked her, I think. Always had a sense of the appropriate. Unfortunately, I tended to be more often than not inappropriate growing up. Fairly certain I was a real trial for her growing up. She was pleased I pursued science, though she never did get to see me succeed at any of it.”

He shrugged slightly and continued administering to her, lightly wiping the cool cloth over the usual pressure points to hopefully offer a bit of relief. “As for my father, I wouldn’t know. We didn’t part on the best of terms. Last I’d heard, he’d crawled into a bottle and never bothered hauling himself back out of it. But well, such is life, eh? What about yourself? Though I almost hesitate to ask for fear they’ll be demanding my balls on a platter for putting you in this state ...”

[Kaenei]

Riordan nodded, shifting his gaunt frame in the chair. "It is clearly impossible for us to personally contact the Skeelzanians - such a move might be considered anything from weak to opportunistic. That would therefore require a "neutral" party to operate on our behalf; since we have no official diplomatic exchange with the Sternreich, and since the concept of exchanging representatives at a time of war is absurd, any Kaeneians would require accreditation with a foreign power ..."

"A foreign power we would be willing to allow to act for us," The old Kaeneian mused, his eyes never leaving Marcus. "I have always wanted to see the Empire. Do you think I would make a good Treznor diplomat? I am sure we could find another power to offer "recognition" to Skeelzanian representatives - perhaps a Concordat member such as Midlonia. Under those circumstances, I could envision a meeting . I cannot promise anything more, and I would promise nothing more.

"On the matter of the NDA, I would prefer more concrete action. We attempted reform before, and it was - in my opinion - bogged down and left to die by those who have enjoyed seniority for a very long time, and are in no rush to surrender it. Alliances exist because it serves those who are its members well. Unlike the Triumvirate of Yut, which can play a card of ideology, the Non-Democratic Alliance exists for a more down-to-earth, achievable aim. In recent times however, and in brutal honesty Marcus, the benefit it brings has begun to drop below the material, logistical and political cost of maintaining it. The NDA is a slow beast to change, however, so it is unlikely we will see anything of these concerns in the immediate future and I am getting quite old now ..."

His lips turned upwards slightly in an ironic smile, "Like all alliances, the NDA relies on a certain degree of trust. It is the opinion of our government that the information shared on Unity Island with all members was to be treated with a certain air of confidence, and most certainly not to be re-broadcast in part or whole to those outside of the alliance. The actions of the government of Northrop-Grumman call into question the wisdom of our position, and I must tell you that the KISS have put forward a suggestion that our higher security clearances be altered to exclude the Non-Democratic Alliance from inclusion. This would have the effect of making it illegal for sensitive information to be shared with the NDA. At this stage it is only a suggestion, and I must stress no concrete action has been taken.

"An amendment reinforcing the confidentiality of information shared with alliance members, would go a considerable way to easing those tensions.A former member of the Ruling Council would lend weight to that, and we will need many, many tons of weight to convince certain members of any proposed change to the NDA."






Kristilanna turned her head, shoulders sagging slightly at the cooling touch of the pad upon her neck. "I am sorry to hear about your mother, Enzo. As for your father ... Have you never considered contacting him? Locating him? It is a terrible shame to sever all ties forever, even if he has been more often a cloud than a sun in your sky."

Levering herself off the edge of the desk with a grunt of effort, the Kaeneian frowned, "I am getting so fat," She half-complained. "My mothers both served in the Ground Component of the Tri-Service Defence Forces, although they have been retired for many years. As for demanding your balls," She mused, glancing down and then back up at Vettori, "That would depend. Inara, my Second-Mother, traditionally defaults to the wishes of my Birth-Mother, Ezree. My Second-Beloved was a non-commissioned officer while my First-Beloved retired as a Lieutenant-Major, so the chain of command continues today. If you convince Ezree you are worth remaining attached to your balls, Inara will comply."

The slightest ghost of a smile played across Kristilanna's alabaster features. "You will meet them, one day."

[Treznor]

Marcus paused, chewing his lip as he digested this. Then he nodded. "I think I can arrange to provide you with the appropriate accreditation, although I don't know what you'd think of Devonton. You're certainly welcome to visit as my guest, and Papa would be happy to have you in the palace. However, I don't know what Midlonia will think of the legal fiction of granting diplomatic status to a Skeelzanian envoy; I can approach them or you can, I'll leave that choice to you. Either way it sounds like an excellent place to start.

"The NDA is a slow-moving beast, and they wrote the Mandate in such a way that the Ruling Council doesn't have to listen to the rank and file members. Papa explained that if the Council wasn't willing to listen to the rest, they'd suffer the consequences and the problem would resolve itself with the dissolution of the alliance. I don't think Mama is willing to see that happen, but she's working with different personalities than when the Alliance was first formed. As a former member of the Ruling Council, our Empire still has no more weight than your Union. What we do have, completely independent of any alliance politics, is leverage with the Dominion. As I said, I don't think Mama is willing to see the alliance dissolve because we can no longer trust our fellow members. Perhaps, in your role as an Imperial diplomat, you and I could pay her a visit in Devras and express our concerns. Such a modification to the Mandate would have far more weight coming from the Dominion than from either you or I."

Marcus grinned, his youthful demeanor shining through. "Plus, I know how to push the right buttons with her."

[Dread Lady Nathicana]

“No,” he said immediately, more tersely than he’d intended. “We’re done.” He couldn’t remember a time when the man had ever added anything to his own life. Damned if he could figure how it could change now. Turning the cloth inside out to get the last bit of cool from it as he worked on her wrists and the insides of her elbows. Her subsequent words gave him pause though, and shifted his focus rather quickly.

“You aren’t fat at all. You look beautiful. Now what’s all this about mothers? That doesn’t bode well for me, no doubt,” he continued, chuckling nervously. Certainly made him wonder why again, all things considered, Kristilanna had chosen to get involved with him. He didn’t think so highly of himself that he had anything of life-changing importance to offer. Especially now that it had all been taken away.

Same sex partnerships, marriages even, under the state or what handful of religions accepted them, weren’t unheard of in the Dominon, so the idea didn’t so much shock him really. Still, if she didn’t want to mention her birth father, he wasn’t about to press the issue. Especially as he had no intention of speaking further on his own.

“I can’t wait,” he said dryly, setting the now warm cloth aside, then laying a hand gently on her stomach, amazed again at the movement he could feel there. “I’ve sort of gotten attached to my bits, in spite of the trouble they’ve gotten me into. Military family, neh? Damn, woman. You sure know how to put a man on the line. Now, what can I do to help you feel better?”

[Oyada]

Back over Telhar, Admiral Kanatar was humming, rehearsing an old tune that had come down as the Navy’s own; from the dark days of the first interplanetary war, through nearly a century of change and challenge, familiar to many thousands, indeed many millions of his countrymen, its meaning unchanged, its pride undimmed by the dust and decay hanging upon the peaceful fleet. There was a time when its words, odes to the steel castles that garlanded the Empire’s worlds, had resounded with much more joy than they did today, but nevertheless Kanatar’s piercing stare was no longer quite so clouded by weary resignation as it had been whenever before he had chanced to study his lost and motionless metal mammoths, penned by the thick cables that snaked from ship to ship into a series of rectangles and cubes, absurdist ball-and-stick molecular models of the kind beloved by schools everywhere.

He mused, quietly, over the implications of the missive now plastered across his large and surprisingly not-eye-straining monitor: the news of the Kaeneian timeship, of its destruction, and of the eruption of violence that was that destruction’s inevitable consequence. Violence upon somebody, and hostility assumed, regardless of evidence; Kanatar was no lawyer, but even he could tell that the basis for the Kaeneian attack – or counter-attack, depending on which side one supported – was perhaps somewhat infirm, though that did not make him doubt very much that it was Skeelzania’s responsibility, whether directly or through less obvious channels. Sighing as he rubbed the bridge of his once-broken nose, Kanatar could not help but envy both sides in the reach and strength of their arms. Yet again he turned his gaze to his beloved ships, their sightless windows seeming to beseech him.

“I know,” he murmured, addressing the silent titans once again. “I know! When they come for us, with their minions and lackeys in train, what then? When it’s too late to make good the neglect of decades, then perhaps they will awake to unpleasant truths.” He thumped the desk’s resilient plastic gently, sighed once more and proceeded to make three rapid and businesslike telephone calls; one to the overseer of the Graveyard, one to his man in the Foreign Ministry, and one to an old associate employed in that least trustworthy of all things, the free press. There was something he must do, and that would require for him to have a word or two with certain people.

*****

By the time his contact in that very foreign place, the Foreign Affairs Office (aka the Foreign Ministry, aka the pointy-lovers, and a host of other epithets too unkind to mention) had replied, Kanatar had been waiting more than an hour. During that time he had had further words with various people whom he knew, one on terms closer than the average at least, in the Third Directorate of the Imperial Security Service. Not to be confused either with Imperial Security (which was its domestic sub-bureau) or Empire Security (the former’s equivalent in dealing with proximate external threats to the homeland), the Third Directorate’s sole function was that of determining intentions overseas in the longer term – and finding ways to frustrate them. Where Empire Security was the skin and Imperial Security was the immune system of Oyada, Third Directorate was the probing eye and the subtle thought. It had taken him more than a little wheedling to get the woman whom he knew – and had known, indeed, in several senses – from her comfortable seat in the jutting, darkened tooth of the far-distant black tower, but he had managed it, even if her consent had been grudging at best. That she was not exactly thrilled about their small excursion was printed firmly on every line of her face, though she had at least had the sense to change into clothing a little more suitable than her usual smart attire for what he had planned.

“Anna! Glad you could make it up here on the short notice.” He smiled warmly, or as warmly as his wounded face would allow, and embraced her, which she returned, if a little reluctantly, wheezing slightly as she did so.

“Careful, Admiral, you’ll squeeze the life out of me!” Nonetheless, she offered him the same smile. Anna Hall was by no means unattractive despite the advancing years and the merciless growth the age brought, especially in a quiet and sedentary lifestyle. Five feet five and slim when he had met her, some thirty years earlier, she was now five feet five and somewhat less slim, though she made strenuous efforts to keep herself in shape. Sixty-nine years old, she was only a little past the half-way point of her life, and showed no signs of letting up quite yet, Kanatar noted without surprise; she still carried herself with that proud, uncompromising cockiness that had first caught his eye, back when his Captaincy had been new and she had been… god he couldn’t remember what she’d been, back then. Or, indeed, what she was now.

“How’s the Third, then, my dear? You look as lovely as ever, I’m pleased to say; they mustn’t be treating you too badly.” He shot her a grin, and her still slightly annoyed expression mellowed a little more.

“Fine, thanks,” she replied, cocking an eyebrow. “I like your optimism, though I’m afraid it’s a bit misplaced today. Come on; I know you well enough you wouldn’t bring me here for no reason, don’t I?”

Kanatar’s grin broadened, despite the swift dismissal of his approach. “I think you do, y’know. And here was I, thinking myself mysterious. I’ve got a shuttle prepared; shall we?” She ran a hand through her shoulder-length blonde hair, tilting her head to one side uncertainly, and Kanatar cursed a little. He had forgotten the claustrophobia that afflicted her; she always found shuttle trips a near-torturous experience, avoiding them whenever she could. “It’ll be fine; it’s less than a mile. I just wanted somewhere we could talk, in private. What better place than here?”

Anna nodded, but still she nervously chewed her lower lip; he rested a hand on her shoulder, felt it tense and relax in rapid succession as she turned to smile at him, her countenance strained. “All right then. But you owe me.”

“As always.” He motioned her into the little, thirty-five-foot craft, clambered in after her, and closed the hatch, listening for the tell-tale “whump” of the airlock above sealing them in, followed by the weary drone of the vacuum pump that would purge the tine space of its last breath of air.

“Let’s see…” he groaned as he squeezed past her and took the pilot’s seat, quietly glad of the quick refresher course he had given himself earlier. It had been many a year since he had last operated one of these tiny craft, and though the training was not lost, it was fogged by time. Not a little fumbling and several long, puzzled gazes were the order of the day, before he finally had all of the little pinnace’s many systems operational and drew slowly away from the berth, leaving a tiny puff of some gas or other hanging behind them in space.

“So. What’s this in aid of, Admiral? Or am I allowed to call you Mister Kanatar?” She smirked at him, and he suddenly realised that she was, in fact, in the seat alongside his; still uncomfortable, but her curiosity overwhelming her discomfiture. The smirk suited her, he thought, as he took the little pinnace over a long column of cruisers, looking for all the world as though they should be steaming in line ahead, making for battle; but for the past four decades, their only battle had been with the occasional piece of debris, the slow, steady decay of tiny impacts, and radiation. No end for fine ships.

“This is in aid of us having somewhere private to talk. And because I want to show you something.”

He stopped speaking and rolled the pinnace onto her starboard beam, yawing the rudder and sending her plunging past serried columns of grey and black hulls, destroyers clustering around the cruisers as though to protect their charges in long, deep walls of stilled steel, sending Anne gasping as the little craft ducked and dived between them; as the bridge of yet another destroyer screeched past, she shot him a glare that could have pierced steel.

“Now you’re just showing off, damnit. You know I don’t fly well.”

Kanatar guffawed loudly, the laughter echoing in their tiny craft. “Seems I’m not as rusty as I thought!”

“You’ll be being hit with something rusty if you keep this up,” she bellowed over the noise of firing thrusters, while Kanatar’s aging frame heaved the ship sickeningly back onto the level. “I thought you said it was only a mile!”

“This is the scenic route,” he responded cheerfully. “Besides,” he continued, risking a grin in her direction, “you’ll be glad to know we’re here. And those nice fellows have even put the lights on.”

“Eh?” She turned to her side window, and spied, sweeping past them as the little craft pirouetted in space, the gargantuan, slatted column of a warship’s radiator stack. Feeling the pinnace halting under its own counter-thrust and beginning its descent toward the magnetic clamps waiting for them on the deck below, she sighed heavily, and shook her head. “Well, you always did know how to show a girl a good time.”

*****

“Reiso, where the hell are we going exactly?” Anna was, by now, becoming more than a little puzzled, and she didn’t like puzzles. She especially disliked puzzles which required her to clamber around inside some dusty warship that had lain almost undisturbed for forty years. Everywhere she went, a thick mist of the stuff seemed to persist, hanging in the air Kanatar had obviously had pumped in for the purposes of this special little tour he was taking her on – although they had still needed suits, fortunately of the lightweight variety and now happily discarded outside the airlock whence they had come – for the short walk from their shuttle to the soaring tower bridge that stood mute sentinel over the rest of the ship. God alone knew how the hatch seals were still working after this long, and Anna sure as hell hoped they continued working for the foreseeable. It would be ridiculous to die on a ship that hadn’t fired a shot in anger in nearly half a century because the lunatic wanted to show her something or other…

“Up”, Kanatar panted, surprised and rather dismayed by the difficulty he was experiencing ascending the old companionways and ladders he knew so well. He’d done his damnedest to keep his body fit, and it wasn’t as though medicine found his age as problematic as it once had, yet every step was now becoming a strain; his heart thumped menacingly in his chest, bringing back the stern words his doctor had almost bawled at him on their previous meeting. Less eating, less strenuous exercise. Take life more gently. Ach, rubbish! Telling himself it was probably just the thinness of their temporary atmosphere, he pressed on, yearning for a drink and somewhere to rest for five minutes.

Anna shook her head, and said nothing. Nothing stopped Reiso Kanatar when he was about his business. She merely continued following him up the steel steps, surmising that this was his old ship, or one of them at any rate. That was bad; it probably meant he wanted a good setting for a lecture. If he’s dragged me all the way out to this crate for a bloody lecture, I swear I’ll have him put in gaol for a bit, she thought wearily, rubbing away a small bead of sweat from her forehead; she hadn’t realised that he was still so damn fast. The man needed to slow down a little.

“Here. Welcome to my…” Kanatar stopped as a bout of coughing overcame him momentarily. “Gah! Fucking dust. Pardon me, my dear… anyway, welcome to my kingdom.” He swept his arm around the compartment, motioning to a chair. “Come, be seated.” Anna did as she was bid, clambering wearily up the final steps of the companionway, ducking through yet another low hatchway and past a tangle of loose-hanging cables marked with incomprehensible symbols, raising a cloud of disturbed particles as she sat heavily in their chair that set her eyes watering and her nose exploding for several seconds. “And just what,” she snapped acidly as her vision swam back to normal, “have you brought me here for, Reiso? Damnit, I have enough to do y’know!”

“Do you know where we are,” Kanatar replied, with infuriating calmness.

“Do I hell!”

“Look around you.”

Anna did so, grudgingly keeping her temper in check as the dust settled once again. The compartment was by no means large, although this was mostly because it was crammed with instruments, tables, and the usual paraphernalia one should expect on a warship, or indeed a ship of any kind. Dozens of monitors, large and small, lined the space’s walls, all black and lifeless; arrayed in banks sat switches, buttons, dials, all faithfully recording nothing and commanding no-one. The chair was set at the aft of the compartment, and although it swivelled, Anne could see it was meant to face a particular set of equipment before her. Lights, red, yellow and green, solemnly labelled and mounted on that peculiarly unattractive creamish plastic the Navy so loved, stared blankly back at her searching eyes. A, B1, B2, Q1, Q2… all meaningless to her. Dials, with numbers marked incrementally, broken by a large red wedge and obviously intended to indicate the bearing of something or other, were assembled side by side with yet other gauges, probably (she guessed) for showing elevation; a cracked plastic telephone, with yet more switches sitting next to it and its cord hanging mournfully from its receiver, invited her to raise it to her ear and call its long-quiet comrades elsewhere in the empty ship. Above hung speakers that spoke no more, perhaps forever.

She turned, looking from the silent console, and stared through vast panes of reinforced glass that covered the front wall and two adjacent sides of the nearly octagonal chamber; outside, stretching in an almost endless rank that tailed away into the expanse, immeasurable as the eye tried in vain to find scale in the mass of metal and the vastness of space, lay the ship’s sisters, each one a hulking, vigilant steel Argus; stilled giants with great, black, lidless glass eyes, all forlornly watching over the distant globe of Oyada.

“Chiokazei.”

“Bless you,” Anna replied, startled from her thoughts. How tiny and vulnerable that little blue orb was!

Kanatar gave her a theatrical roll of the eyes. “That’s her name. Chiokazei. Fiery wind.”

“Oh.” Fidgeting a little, turning her wedding ring absent-mindedly on her finger, she glanced at the sightless monitors. “And this was your ship?”

“For a time. During the wars, mostly. Where you’re sitting – that was my station; main battery monitoring and communications.” He wandered across and leaned over her shoulder, perhaps a little too close.

Anna sighed. “You never stop trying, do you? Go on, away with you,” she added, batting at his head playfully. Kanatar withdrew, still grinning a little, and began pointing. “Turret readiness indicators, emergency indicators, training and elevation repeaters, ammunition counters. Phone to allow you to speak with any turret, speakers for orders and reports, and screens, so we could see what the plot was like and direct the guns accordingly.”

“Plot,” she asked, unfamiliar with its meaning in context, cocking her head slightly.

“The sensor plot, my dear. Shows you what’s going on and where, and prioritises your targets.”

“Ah.” She looked intently at the collection of equipment, but still found it basically uninspiring. “Well, fascinating as this is, Reiso, what exactly is the point of me sitting here?” Running a finger along the surface, she scooped up a particularly thick coat of dust and flicked it away, sending it drifting languidly in the musty air.

Kanatar moved away from her, turning away and staring through the thick glass at the distant, blue-hued homeworld whose seas had, long ago, stirred in him the first awakenings that had led him here. “You know, I take it, about the Kaeneian timeship,” he asked softly, his hands clasped behind his back, drumming a beat one upon the other, pensive.

“Yes, of course,” she responded cautiously. “We probably read the same report at the same time.”

“Probably. You know what a threat it may have been, and might still be once again?”

“Of course.”

He turned back to her, his face questioning. “And?”

“And…” Anna mused. “It’s disturbing, but not too much so for the moment. Their response has been… vigorous, but then, so was that of the Skeel… Skeek…”

“Skeelzanians,” he supplied with more than a trace of smugness.

“Yes, them. Such a cunning linguist, you are.” Kanatar snorted at that. “Anyway, yes. There seems little to do with us for the minute. We don’t know of any plans on the part of the Kaes or the NDA lot to come this way, time-shifts blazing, if that’s what you mean. As a matter of fact, there’s very little evidence to indicate they have any interest in anything apart from their own space…”

“And just how strong is our presence in Sol, hm? How many operatives do you have in the NDA’s upper echelons,” he countered.

“Well, human intelligence isn’t so important these days, you know. We use a lot more SigInt and its like nowadays, as well as pattern analysis…”

Kanatar interrupted her again. “Come on now; I’ve been receiving reports from you lot and their like long enough to know that that means we’ve got next to nothing there, if even that much. What the hell kind of basis is that upon which to base intelligence?”

“Now you look here,” Anna flared indignantly. “We may not have all we would like but we’re far from useless, and far from blind, too if that’s what you mean! I don’t think even we could miss a large fleet movement in the middle of Sol!”

“Yes,” Kanatar persisted, “I expect not. But how precise can you be?” He had the advantage, now, and he was determined to press it. “Put yourself in my position for a moment, Anna. All you can tell me now is – what? The same thing the damned pointies told us, that’s what. It’s not enough time, not enough warning, and it’s not precise enough to make great decisions hinge upon it. I know you do your best, all of you.” He meant that, too, despite his need to mollify her; he was well aware that Anna and her departmental colleagues faced the same infernal problem as he of trying to do too much with too little. “But what worries me is that we are groping in the dark, and we have just seen what that charming lot in Sol will do. They will go forty thousand light-years to strike someone whom they think has wronged them…

“’Think’ my arse! Come on Reiso, don’t even try to pretend you don’t know exactly who planted that charge. For all the Concordat types will begin their usual media carping, it’s as plain as a Grummian accountant’s sex manuals that it was them.”

“That’s as maybe. My point is that we don’t know enough about what they’re doing, and what they will do next.”

Anna sighed heavily. “All right then. What would you have me do about it? Go around in the middle of Devras with a nice big sign? ‘Sign up for the Oyadan Imperial Security Service, betray your family, friends and country and you could win this fabulous talking alarm clock?’ Perhaps stop off in Navarre. ‘Free blowjob if you sign the form!’”

“No, not at all,” Kanatar replied gently. “I’d just have you say it was so, that’s all.”

“To whom,” she asked carefully.

“Our Lords and Masters. I know, I know, what about your reputation and all that, I know.”

“Never mind my bloody reputation; what else is it you’re angling for?

She had him in her sights now, and Kanatar couldn’t help but think, briefly, of the not unpleasant times they had spent together, way back when. She had certainly got his attention then and she showed no signs of losing her power to grip him with a look. Still, job to be done. “I want you to tell them you can’t be sure that they’re not… expanding. The NDA, Yut, whoever, it doesn’t have to be too specific. They need to hear, from someone with weight, that this lot are a potential threat, and the sooner the better.”

Anna remained silent for a moment. Then, quietly: “You expect me… to- to lie, in point of fact, to outright lie, to my superior…”

“Who’s a raging drunk who nobody’s listened to in years.”

“… to parliament, and to the Emperor himself, all so you can have this back, don’t you,” she continued, ignoring him. “You brought me all the way up here to this goddamned ship just so you could wallow in self-pity and try to…” She paused again, and sighed heavily, falling back into the chair, releasing her suddenly strong grip on its sparsely-padded arms, and rested her head on her hand, shaking it despairingly. “Oh, Reiso, why don’t you just give it up? The war’s over. It’s finished. It might hurt your professional pride to see these old crates hanging around here, but we don’t need them. And the Emperor’s right. We can always put them back into shape, if we need to. I know you worry, I know we need to have better intel in Sol; but for the sake of all that’s holy, you can’t seriously expect me to lie to them all just so you can have your beloved fleet back! You know the penalties, for goodness’ sake! Do you really think I want to ruin my career, my family, my life for the sake of your demons?”

She raised her head, and saw that Kanatar was no longer facing her, no longer even near her. Instead he had crossed toward the window; his back to her, framed by the dim lights, he heaved a great sigh and looked around the small space again.

“Anna…”

Another sigh, this time in return. “Yes?”

“It’s not professional pride. And I know what you’re thinking and no, it’s not that either. I saw enough of war, Anna, enough to last me a lifetime.” He spun around, strode over to face her, leaning heavily on the old console and its array of electronics. “I know what war is like, better than you or our parliamentarians, all of whom, I hasten to add, never lifted a fucking finger to go and fight! Half of them were still suckling at their mothers’ breasts when I was sitting on this old scow, and they have the nerve to call me a warmonger! Not, of course, in public,” he spat savagely. “No, they simply sit and sneer in their cosy little homes and their cosy little clubs, and leave me trying to defend us with nothing. I know better than even His Majesty there himself what war’s all about, believe you me.”

Anna shrank slightly from him now; his cheeks were red, and his eyes blazed with a fire she remembered well, from times good and bad alike. As if in response, he pushed himself away from the console and strode toward the great ranks of glass, resting his roughened hands on one more rack of machines.

“I’ve seen the stars themselves cringe before what living creatures will do to one another, Anna,” he went on, his voice softening a little. “I saw good men, good friends of mine, die here and in a hundred more places besides; watched ships and men alike burn in fires pulled straight from the sun. I was lucky; I just got a nice little trophy for my face.” Kanatar ran his hand gently down the length of that vivid scar, sighing once more. “Gods all, I know what war’s like. It’s a miserable business that spreads despair and sorrow and destruction wherever it shows its ugly face, and I don’t want it any more than anyone else who’s seen it wants it; trust me. But we will have it, and it will be thrust upon us, whether we like it or not, one day. And it will take months to put these ships back into service, months more to upgrade them to meet current standards, years to train crews to the state we were in; and we were good, Anna, we were superb. We were small but we damn well knew how to fight, even if we’d had a bellyful of it. If that war taught me anything it’s that we aren’t free to choose when we fight. We must be ready, because if we aren’t, all we do is make ourselves a powerless, tempting target.

“And right now… right now, we’re not ready. Not by a long way. If those Kaes were to try such a trick with us tomorrow we’d be helpless, utterly and completely.” He turned around again, his arm pointing to the far-off sphere of cyan and ochre and rolling white cloud that was Oyada. “I took an oath to defend them. To defend us, from whatever might come. And now?” Kanatar barked a short, savage laugh. “I can barely hold off some freebooting pirates in the rims.” He turned back, and Anna watched his head drop, almost feeling the sense of dishonour radiating from him. “If we find ourselves on anyone’s target list tomorrow, we’re finished. Don’t you even think of trying to tell me those Kaes weren’t trying to develop that thing as a weapon; I’d wager every penny I’ve ever earned on it. Their allies and lackeys rally around them like a horde of cosseted lapdogs, they strike with impunity against an enemy who they have simply assumed to be their foe, and now the Concordat decides it’s going to frustrate the Kaes’ blockade. With what? I haven’t enough cruisers or destroyers to go around now, for god’s sake.”

“Now I hear professional pride talking,” Anna responded quietly, and licked her lips. “Do you really think it’s as bad as all that?”

“They travelled forty thousand light-years to deliver their blows. It’s not that much farther to here, is it? And that was alone. With allies…” He stroked his shaven chin. “And the longer we leave it, the more vulnerable we are, and everyone else can see it and know it. To be prepared for war…”

“… is one of the best means of preserving peace. Yes, I get the point,” she supplied, with her more typical patience.

Kanatar trod toward her, sat beside her, and rested a gnarled, rough hand gently on hers, folded on her legs. “I’m not asking you to lie. Not even I’m stupid enough to do that,” he said wryly. “I’m asking you to present the worst-case scenario.”

“So,” she responded dryly, “to lie a bit, then. A sort of half-lie.”

“You should know as well as I do that in military matters, it is often best to assume the worst. If you’re wrong…”

“You merely win more easily, yes, I know. I know, Reiso; I remember you telling me that at the Hotel di Barberini.” She gave him a somewhat cheerier smile. “Amongst other things, anyway.”

“Ahh, Barby’s!” Kanatar exclaimed, glancing wistfully to the ceiling. Memories… though I don’t think Ercole will ever be quite the same again, since that lock problem…”

Anna tittered a little. “Didn’t seem to bother you very much.”

“Me? A fine, strapping stallion of a man, moulded by the Imperial Navy into one of the galaxy’s finest fighting machines?” He pounded his chest theatrically. “Bet it put hairs on his chest.”

“And took ten years off his life expectancy,” she responded, with the same dry humour he had always loved.

“Ach, did him good I tell you! Besides, just think. It could have been Zoe.”

“Oh gawd…”

“Quite.” Kanatar scratched his head thoughtfully, removed his resting hand from hers, and stood again, staring with his back turned to her at Oyada. “I wonder what Alessandro and Veronica would do, if we faced another attack from those damned vile insects now.”

“Reiso…”

“Sorry,” he replied sheepishly, turning back to her again. “It’s my duty to worry about them, though, isn’t it? About them, and what I can do to protect them.”

“And mine, too,” Anna replied, chewing her lip again. That was good, he realised; that meant she was deciding something. Always had. Just like when she’d chewed it in room seventeen, after far too much wine and far too little time, and eventually decided to make a still-youngish Captain’s night go very well indeed.

“All right,” she announced with a weary exhalation, “you’ve made your point, and I’ll do it. Gods above and around us help me, I’ll do it, but only…”

“For me?” Kanatar glanced at her, doing his best (and still very poor) sad-puppy-eyes impersonation.

“… because you obviously believe it’s right. And heck, you weren’t wrong in the war, or so you keep saying. But you owe me. I still don’t even know if it’ll work; I’m Deputy Chief of Analysis, y’know. Not The Man himself at the top.”

“Your opinion, my dear,” he replied firmly, “carries more weight than that of some old fool who’s not seen anywhere apart from the bottom of a bottle of gin for the best part of the last quarter of a century. I’ll see to if that it does, if needs be.”

Anna shook her head, and let him see the smile that accompanied it. “Always the way with words, Admiral. And you still owe me, even if you’re right.”

“I know I am, and I know I do. Come on, let’s go.” He extended her hand, smiling broadly when she took it, and shook his head himself. “Funny, isn’t it. You still haven’t changed that much, you know, from the last time I was on this ship.”

“Oh away with you,” she answered, without rancour and with a smile that still caught his eye oh-so-well every time. “Thought you’re still pretty much as you were, a few creaks and groans aside.”

“Hey! That’s uncalled-for,” he gasped. “Fine thing to say to an old seaman.”

“Who still owes me,” she countered as they began descending the steel steps. She paused at the bottom, realising that he was no longer behind her, and looked back; Kanatar was closing the heavy steel door that led onto the deck plates, sealing it for another day. As it clanged shut, he grabbed the metal locking wheel, grunting with the effort of turning a mechanism stiffened by years of inactivity, and whispered one of his favourite proverbs:

“The wise warrior keeps his sword by his bed, and sleeps most soundly.”

*****

With a lurch, their little shuttle crabbed gently alongside the Graveyard’s central office. Kanatar waited until the bolts and locks had all clunked noisily into place before cutting the engines, and patiently awaited the green light that would show him their airlock was pressurised. When it finally arrived, he threw the narrow hatch open and motioned to Anna. “Ladies first, m’dear.”

“Oh yeah? I bet you look up as I climb.” She batted his head again, setting the cap askew a little, and clambered up. True to form, Kanatar didn’t look, as he informed her when he arrived a moment later.

“Well, that was nice of you,” came the sardonic reply, but still delivered with that damned smile. “And here was me thinking I looked good still.”

Kanatar, amusingly, stuttered. “I- I…”

“You’re hopeless.” She grinned back at him, and looked straight into his eyes. “Barberini’s?”

“Go on, then,” he replied, with an unnecessary flourish. “I’m buying.” As they walked down the long, exceptionally grey and very much deserted corridor to the main shuttle bay, he leaned in towards her. “And… do we need a room,” he asked, sotto voce and with a seriously over-raised eyebrow.

Anna mulled it over for a moment. “I’m a married woman, Admiral, and that is a dreadful suggestion.”

“I believe the more accurate term is proposition, actually,” said Kanatar is his most lawyerly tones, cracking his beaten face into yet another wry grin and setting his scar twisting once more.

“Yes,” she came back in a thoughtful monotone, “it is. Unfortunately, it and marriages don’t tend to go well together.”

“Even marriages wherein one party has done the same thing on no less than six occasions?”

“Reiso…”

He backed off, sensing the danger in her voice a shade too late. “I’m sorry, Anna. I know it’s hard, with the kids and the commitments and so forth.” He laid a hand gently on her shoulder, the same reassuring gesture. “I didn’t actually intend, contrary to my old, dirty sailor’s outfit, to be that discomfiting.”

“I know, I know.” She stopped as they reached the shuttles, and he slid his hand unobtrusively away. “Oh, what the hell.” Anna walked two fingers up his tunic, looking up into his war-weary countenance, and grinned broadly. “Don’t see why he should have all the fun.”

“That’s the spirit. And if he wants to cause trouble…”

“Yes, I know, you’ve got a sword he can speak to.” She shook her head. “Honestly, you men and your swords; there has to be more to it than simple utility.”

“There’s only once place,” Kanatar declared magisterially, “for such talk. The Hotel di Barberini it is.”

“Room seventeen,” Anna confirmed mischievously as she ducked into the shuttle.

*****

While Kanatar descended, his other call was paying off. His personal private secretary, a tall, gangly young petty officer by the name of Akers, was just at that moment consulting his diary programme, faced by a still taller and powerful-looking man who looked as though he should be itching to tear off his suit, oil himself, and begin performing body-building manoeuvres. Instead, he smiled pleasantly down at the younger man from behind large, horn-rimmed spectacles, and fiddled unobtrusively with the brown leather briefcase clasped in a meaty hand.

“I’m afraid Admiral Kanatar isn’t here at the moment, Mr. Peterson,” Akers informed him mellifluously. “However, he did say that you should be given this.” He brought upward a small envelope, unmarked save for the recipient’s name, and handed it ceremoniously to Peterson, dusting some imaginary dirt from his brilliant white uniform as he did so. “I do apologise for the inconvenience you have suffered. Shall I have the Admiral contact you?”

Peterson opened the envelope and plucked from it a small slip of paper, read the contents, and shook his head, expressionless. “No thank you, Mr. Akers; I have everything I think I’ll need right here. Thank you for your time.”

“A pleasure, Akers concluded politely, and immediately went back to his paperwork. By the time Peterson had shut the hefty oak doors leading into the chamber, he had almost forgotten his name.

Outside, Peterson strode calmly to the shuttle bay, his six-foot-three-inch frame covering the distance with easy, loping motions and without any sense of urgency, smiling pleasantly to all and sundry that passed him, and seating himself in the shuttle that would return him to the smoke of Oyadato without fuss. Only once the craft had begun its return journey, paralleling and somewhat in rear of Kanatar’s, did he check the note again.

“Dear Nick. My apologies for my absence; I was called away on urgent business. Please find enclosed a little something which I think you may find of interest. I do hope that, in my old age, I have not contrived to place the wrong document within this envelope once again; I find myself forever leaving things in the wrong places nowadays. I trust you will do what is right, should this have occurred.

Best wishes and love to Hadago,
Reiso.”

Oh, Admiral, Peterson thought, smiling slyly. You really are very disorganised sometimes…

*****

And much further away from either of the two protagonists in the unfolding events, Pethbrigg’s ears began to prick up. Diplomatic offensives and the like were one thing; they had their usefulness, and were relatively risk-free. But those words, “all necessary aid,” were not ones he liked at all. Especially when dealing with a large and, evidently, at least moderately unified power bloc rather more capable than their own. Waiting for Hillcrest to finish his monologue, the Oyadan once more stepped up to the plate, aiming to be as pithy as possible. This, for him, was at least a little unusual, but he was going to give it a try anyway. What the hell, it worked for proverb-makers.

“I do not like this phrase, ‘all necessary aid’, Mr. Hillcrest. ‘All necessary aid’ is generally a euphemism for military force, and euphemism, to paraphrase an old saying, is the thief of time.” Precious time, perhaps, you useless, droning fool. “Do you mean to say that, if your diplomatic manoeuvring is incapable of changing the situation, we are now to resort to force? I assure you I have no innate moral objection to that, but it seems to me that we might be biting off rather more than we can chew. The NDA, with present company warmly excepted, naturally,” he added, nodding graciously to Chairwoman O’Neill, pointy though she was,” has stood by its reckless and deservingly walloped ally. Is it likely that they will abandon them – I ask all of you – resulting from the threat of one or two states with delusions of power greater than their capabilities? We should be cutting off our nose to spite our face, if we were to imperil all of the members by initiating another clash with the entire NDA for the sake of bringing one new member to the alliance. Basic mathematics, methinks, gentlemen – and ladies, of course.”