Grow Or Die (FT, TG To Join)

[Doppio Giudici]

Yoshua stood up and silently shook hands, before politely gesturing outside the room.

"It was interesting to meet you, be safe." Yoshua replied

After their guests had left, Yoshua took a seat and rested his head on the table. He closed his eyes and sighed loudly.

"We blew it." Yoshua declared.

"Im to tired to think this over." Simon said as he got up, before looking at them both, "Going to turn in for the night and see if I can get some sleep. At least this ended before I passed out."

Sim let out a fierce yawn and then headed to his room, which wasn't much of a walk from there.

"I did my damage, so I'm out too." The Vice-Governor stayed, before heading after her husband.

Yoshua pulled himself up and left the room, staring at his unit, which was still on some degree of guard.

"The rest of the snacks are yours." Yoshua stated, gesturing towards the table. "Loot and pillage to your hearts content."

The commando hadn't been awake too long, but needed some place to think and something to take his mind off this afterwards. He headed to where he was staying and began the process of decoding what happened, followed by ignoring it till it was time to sleep. After a few hours he found himself at the door of Paul, knocking to enter the room where the class five treasonist confined his guilt.

"I didn't expect you to be here, last person I would expect." Paul admitted, as he opened the door and saw who it was.

"You trained me to shoot, I still remember." Yoshua explained, "I just came to say that I appreciated it, and I am sorry things had to be this way. I've come to make amends."

"For what?" Paul asked, stepping out of the way and siting down on his floor, "You are a Kinful, their leader even. I am just.... A traitor, the worst of those still alive. I... Broke all of the rules on how people are to be treated. I broke them and I enjoyed it. I have no hope of repayment or forgiveness."

"I forgive you." Yoshua declared, taking a seat inside and closing the door, "I can barely stand to watch you suffer like this, despite what you did to us, to our mothers."

"Why care at all?"

"You have a pulse."

"Insects have a pulse."

"You have thoughts. Perhaps not before, but at the procedure you had thoughts. You are sentient, you are self-aware. Where there was charisma, there is regret. You are so different now."

"I can't forgive myself, I can never be clean."

"You think any of us don't feel that way? The nation is losing its grip on sanity, we need a victory. The lack of struggle is making us soft and incoherent, I can Harley understand my own words. It's like Im watching myself from the outside."

"Didn't have a choice without a soul, and now that I have one, I have a completely different choice that I have to make."

"Perhaps we should pray for the enemy then. Perhaps they feel they had no other choices but to fight us."

"And so we are but soldiers fighting soldiers, volunteers agreeing to die."

"We should look out for the civilians. The government could shift and be allies someday, or we might liberate their people or be picking up its pieces. We are devoting all of ourselves as a society to this, but that doesn't mean we will degrade ourselves to total war."

"So the soldiers all die and the civilians all live."

"They volunteered, and if not, we will give them a choice to surrender or retreat either way."

"I wish I had been so merciful."

"I wish we had always been this way too."

[Principality of Zundrbar]

As the shuttle reached the ship, one of the security officers approached the living room, where Cain and the Vice Admiral had sat in silence since they had left Confederation space.

"Vice Admiral, I have been notified that there is a heavy Black Eagles presence on the ship. You and Cain are to report to a confidential briefing session with the Chancellor and the rest of the National Security Council upon arrival." His voice was monotone and conveyed nothing other than obedience.

"Thank you," the Vice Admiral said neutrally, with Cain giving a mere nod. The two stepped out of the shuttle, followed by their security detail behind them, and saw a sea of black-uniformed security personnel. As they exited the shuttle, two of the Black Eagles security detail approached them and repeated what the security officer had told them before. Following the black-uniformed officers, they headed into the same conference room that they had been in before when first discussing the unknown presence in the system. Now, the normal Fleet Security had been replaced by heavily armed Black Eagles operatives, just as they had seen in the hangar.

The doors to the conference room opened, allowing Cain and the Vice Admiral to enter, and then promptly closed behind them. Thankfully, the Vice Admiral had seen no trace of Lucius Levy, who may have hitched a ride back to the Inner System before things got too heated. Cain and Solomon sat down at the conference table and a few moments later, holograms displaying the National Security Council and the Chancellor appeared in an organization fashion in the room.

"Good to see you boys made it back in one piece," the Chancellor began, "Give us a sitrep. What exactly are we looking at here?" Flanking the Chancellor's hologram was that of the Commander-in-chief, Abraham Rumsfeld, the man who pulled the strings behind the scenes.

The Vice Admiral began, "Well, they're not how we initially expected is probably the best way to put things." The Vice Admiral accepted another glass of whiskey from the Black Eagles operative in the room, who handed him the cup in dead silence. "They're much more like us than I originally anticipated."

The Chancellor shrugged, "So then what is it that has you and Cain on edge? I can sense it from my office. Seems like the tension over there can be cut with a pair of scissors."

The Vice Admiral swallowed hard and continued, "It's what they've got in common with us that worries me, Chancellor. Just as how our nation is committed to spreading our own beliefs, so are they. And they seem to be better at doing it than we are."

"What is this? A smug left wing comedy show or an intelligence briefing?" the Commander-in-chief asked, annoyed at the last part of the Vice Admiral's comment, "Care to elaborate on what they're better than us at?"

"Commander-in-chief, this is a society that looks like a total warfare scenario, like something out of a fiction novel. Their soldiers don't die to spread liberal democracy; their soldiers don't die to spread the blessings of the market; their soldiers die to stop 'inequality.' Now that may sound fine and dandy, but that term very well could include our society someday. And when that day comes, from what we saw of their military infrastructure and their ability to mobilize resources, we will not stand a chance. The Belt will be even more of a wasteland than it is today in less than twenty minutes. Give them an hour to reach the capital, tops. What we are looking at is an expansionist foe that combines our society's strategy, that is, war to spread our nation's ideals, to spread a set of ideals that are completely contrary to our own."

The room fell quiet and there was a silence when the Vice Admiral finished his statement. The Commander-in-chief nodded solemnly and the Chancellor looked down and swallowed, while the other members of the National Security Council looked at one another.

"Elaborate," came a voice from the side. It was the voice of Senator Miles Hunter, a close member of the Conservative Alliance leadership. "Tell us more about this inequality objective, if there is anything left to tell."

The Vice Admiral finished up the last of his whiskey and continued, "They call them 'refugees'- these guys crawled out of some hellhole that would've made Augustus Rumsfeld take off his hat out of respect. And what did they do? They went around their world and freed them of social inequality and oppression. And when they were done with their planet, they expanded outwards and kept the agenda going. Right now, they're looking for some alliance called the Nussa Accord, which seems to have gobbled up most of the refugees that they're looking for."

"Do they plan on taking military action against this Accord?" The Senator asked, "Or is this just glorified humanitarian propaganda."

"They plan on building up arms that our entire nation could not hope to match for a single campaign. They're sending in violent prisoners, foreign mercenaries, everything they can throw at these guys. They're hunting in the Beta Quadrant for them, but he didn't mention where exactly they are located."

The Senator nodded, "Well it seems like we have two options here, either we take a seat and watch them take on this Accord or we try and help them. Doesn't really seem like any other path beyond those two."

"Thank you for the reminder," Cain blurted out, the only words he had said in the meeting so far. Cain continued, "We might buy some time with these freaks by helping them in whatever crusade they're embarking on now, but let's remember what the Vice Admiral said. They're going after 'inequality.' They aren't going after slavery, or communism, or transhumanism, or authoritarianism like we are. And that term may refer to some podunk Accord today, but what will be the long term effects of giving them a stronger foothold in the region. If their arms build up is half as bad as the Vice Admiral pointed out, then what position would we be in when push comes to shove and we're next on the chopping block?"

"These are graves times in the Dominion, indeed," Senate Majority Leader Uriel Irving said, "Perhaps we should schedule another meeting to ascertain more information about their ambitions in this Quadrant and couple it with more arms production. I think we could pass another defense spending increase in the Senate this week."

The Chancellor nodded, "See if you can get into contact with them and schedule another appointment. With that being said, don't host it too far into our territory. We don't want them knowing all of our plans."

The holograms disappeared and the Vice Admiral shook his head before putting it in his hand. Cain looked over, finishing up a cigarette, and patted his back, "C'mon Solomon don't be so hard on yourself. You did the best you could."

"And the best I could was failure," the Vice Admiral replied harshly, "We were supposed to set up some kind of friendship pact and we're left with more questions than we started out with."

Cain smirked, but not in his traditional way and in a much more cynical manner, "I can see it now- the Conservative Alliance wanting us to shell any vessel belonging to them that gets within our planetary satellites and on the other side, the LibDems who are going to let them trample over our country."

The Vice Admiral smirked, "Maybe you're right Cain. Maybe."

[Doppio Giudici]

Ten hours later

The alert went off, an incoming message from the surface had been directed towards the local ships of Zundrbar. Embedded in it was a video recording and a request for general information about their people. To move information from one planet to another required it be moved physically on ships, as the amount of data typically held on the internet was simply too much to send in a strong signal towards a receiver even in the same system. Outer-space was full of solar radiation, gamma radiation, UV rays, and other rays, so while other people out there could easily obtain information about other cultures, the "State of the Galaxy" message was brief and only sent out monthly for a reason.

"We are entirely certain that we have made you uneasy or confused you." Simon stated, leaning forward and resting on his crossed arms, clearly sitting at the same table they talked at, "We would like to understand what your concerns are, and to go over them on your vessel, as I am the most senior official available and I can't leave this system. We simply refuse to offer anything less then a governor for you to speak too, at least till an embassy is established."

Meanwhile on Prole Confederation Territory
Nidus

The training exercises quickly came to a close, as people couldn't focus on them that much longer. Someone had requested recordings of the meeting over at Masunk', and while the images and sounds of the visitors was kept mostly secret, much of what their own people had said was handed over. The last words of the Vice-Governor especially were passed from person to person, as they thought over what it meant. There was a long silence, as everything seemingly shut down. People isolated themselves to watch as much of the recordings that were leaked as possible. The people at the registers at stores barely could focus on their work, while those in line more often then not stared at their devices. Strangers who never talked spoke to each other, asking questions. Social media had it's sprinkling of people who had their opinions and thoughts, but mostly there was reflection. It had been a long time since someone had actually touched on this in a meaningful way, that didn't seem repetitive and dated. One of the first people to get the attention of the masses was a girl of fourteen, who posted what she could understand.

"We have done this before, right?" She had posted online, "Paradise had given in a long time ago. What do we have to be afraid of? I know my people, they are good and kind."

People agreed with her, they felt this had been done before, many many times. They remember the years of discovery after Seth's ascension, or at least remembered reading about those years. The words "Show no fear" had been cried out more times then then could be counted, they were just another expression that it seemed everyone heard and everyone knew. The Outsiders, who control in their factions most of Nidus, didn't understand or didn't know of what was happening. The last time someone had called the Prole Confederation "good and kind", was during the first few decades of "Operation Eternal Justice", from the lips of children more often then others. In the peace people had forgotten that expression, and in their shame it became a stranger. Now that they remembered and were familiar with it, or at least were growing familiar with it, some of them choose to believe it. Surely, if they spent all of this time agonizing over right and wrong, that it would make it easier for them to be right.

Some meditated, some sang, and others prayed.

[Principality of Zundrbar]

Commandant Gordon Buchanan lit his cigarette as he waited for the elevator that would take him to the conference room with the Vice Admiral and Captain Cain. The Buchanan family had made their wealth in the nation's behemoth tobacco industry, but he had always been known as the black sheep. After a decades long career in private security, the Rumsfeld Administration quietly transferred Gordon into the prestigious paramilitary body after several accusations of war crimes doing contracting work for the Belt Development Authority. He had been itching to get out of his stuffy office in the Chancellery and do some field work and this was his shot. He had been quietly placed in charge of the Black Eagles units handling this case. Buchanan might've been a black sheep, but he had always had a knack for fighting and this situation was no exception.

The elevator doors opened and a few Black Eagles operatives saluted him as he entered the lift. The Black Eagles were a prestigious body, somewhere in between honor guards and secret police. Accountable only to the Chancellor, their operations were closed even to some of the nation’s highest ranking national security personnel.

Buchanan let out a puff of smoke as the doors opened, revealing the hallways that were dead silent as he approached. The two Black Eagles operatives blocking the door flashed a salute and stepped to the side, allowing the Commandant to enter. Upon entering, Cain stood up and saluted him and the Vice Admiral followed soon after. Buchanan had served extensively with Cain, given that private security were becoming just as common as military in fighting terrorists at home.

“Cain, it’s good to see you,” Gordon said in a voice that had become hoarse from decades of smoking, the family trademark some called it, “A soldier like you should never stray too far from the battlefield.” Though Gordon’s appearance screamed hostility, there was something comforting about his hardline expression, “And you must be the commanding officer,” he said, extending a hand to the Vice Admiral.

“Now let’s get down to business,” he said, finishing the last of his cigarette and pushing it against the ashtray next to Cain, “I apologize, Vice Admiral, but the Chancellor has placed command into the hands of the Black Eagles. This situation is too risky for us to rely on standard personnel.”


“I could use the vacation,” the Vice Admiral said with a shrug as he poured himself another glass of whiskey and took a sip.

Buchanan’s face still held its cold expression, “The only easy day was yesterday.”

[Doppio Giudici]

Midi-Candida, Schnee

Xerion, disgusting, carnivorous creatures. Their bodies were like some kind of horrible wolf or doglike bipedal apex predator. They were known to attack anything and eat anything, if it could move. The white hair didn't cover innocence, it was just a feature that went along with the class and sharp teeth. Many of them were most of a foot of half a meter shorter then humans, while being 20 pounds or 10 kilograms lighter then the lightest human males and females. Their cybernetic implants were a want and not a need, a savage and brutal want. On the edge of the Midi-Candida System, seven Jagged Hatchet Class Annihilators sat in wait. The Prole Confederation had taken this system because others didn't want it, just like how they were dealing with the local Xerion problems, because others wanted things to be quick and easy. Midi-Candida had provided little, but it remained a system and it had it's own garrison. Ten Destroyers would remain in reserve, guarding the space station on Schnee, much like others did around Masunk'.

Where the smaller destroyers were 1.5 kilometers, the annihilators were 3 kilometers. They had a long forward facing coil-gun, followed by six secondary coil-guns, and 12 long-range missile launchers, stronger shields, and many smaller weapon systems for borders. In the command of the most forward annihilator was Zářeni. Záření didn't have any speeches to give, he wasn't that kind of guy. Záření was the kind of guy to rename himself after his sickness and mostly act in silence. When he was younger his chest-sign had been green, but it had darkened after the accident and people were left whispering about it when he wasn't around. When he entered the command module for the annihilator, he looked at the Admiral in charge and simply walked over to him. Reaching out with a discolored, sickly hand; he touched the shoulder of the commanding officer, a woman, and said nothing. She grabbed the microphone and held down the button, before beginning her speech.

"I will quote the 1982 speech of Armageddon recited first by Seth, the Prophet." She began, her tone of voice much deeper then it normally was, her eyes staring straight ahead, "We have done nothing to warrant this level of violent hatred and abusive. We don't know these people and they should stay in their own fucking goddamn borders and stop nuking our fucking goddamn cities!"

She clenched the microphone, sweat running down her brow, not having the slightest idea what she would say next. There was a presence, an aura, of death and suffering in the ship in the room, but it quickly was being replaced with hatred and retribution.

"We have lost so much that we worked so hard to built, and so many are death now." She growled out, almost hissing with each word, before shaking her fist in the air, "But for what! For what reason are we at war? For what reason have they come to kill our people and rape our land? I will tell you, there is no reason, there should be a reason and there isn't. There should be some greed or some misunderstanding, or some belief that we could adjust or talk over or work out. They just fucking hate us, that is not a reason, there is no justification for having anything against us and wasting all of these lives just to enslave us. There is no profit to be made, there is no good to be done, there is no pleasure to seek. Those of them that stay in their own goddamn borders can live, but every single on that comes over here is going to die. There isn't going to be any more restraint from my forces and I encourage you to be as brutal and aggressive as possible till they leave us alone. If they want to throw themselves at us, I will bleed them so dry that their bodies are like dried meat-husks. If I can die having killed a thousand imperialists, I will not be satisfied, if I have killed a million I will not be at peace. I will butcher them so heavily and with such speed, that they will look upon me and call me the spirit of death."

She was caught up in emotions she never had known and feeling she had never had, speaking thoughts she never had thought at all. The presence grew till it filled the entire ship, as the sound of the speech filled all seven vessels. Tears ran down her eyes, she was almost on the verge of a mental breakdown. Some words would come out slow and then others would gush out of her like a dam had broken.

"I miss Robby, I miss my brother, I miss my best friend!" She sobbed out, her teeth so clenched up between words they almost hurt, "I stand in schoolyards and in front of orphanages, thinking of the future that was robbed of us, of the past that has been set alight. No amount of death will bring back what we have lost, what I have lost, but it will be a message to the world. That message will be, 'Laying a finger upon our children and civilians will bring down great fire upon you, you will be sobbing for mercy as we grind you into dust so small it reacts with the air! Don't come here, don't fight us, and don't you fucking dare think about looking at a red button.'"

The presence had expanded into the other vessels, and as the speech finished, everyone stood in silence as they felt the added weight to the air. Some of them had felt it at what had been his grave-site or perhaps at the sacred Birthland, but never with this intensity. What others had felt and sensed was a feeling of wisdom and peace, but this was a much younger presence then what had been sensed before. It was a presence of youth, of bittersweet love, of being barely a man and yet forced to assume a lot of responsibility. A feeling that all of the capable people were dead or busy, so you were forced to do things you weren't qualified to do. As they stood at their stations, they could feel hundreds of thousands of older eyes staring at them, looking for leadership that they didn't believe they had. They could smell of rolled cannabis and the feel of of a bottle of vodka in the left hand. Tears ran down some of their eyes, the weight of gear they were barely strong enough to carry loaded them down, and the world looked so dark to all of them. The sound of drums played softly in the back of their minds, matched with distant hums and mourning.

"Thank you Záření, for providing us such an important and life-changing presence." Olovo stated, playing a hand in return upon his shoulder, "Can you maintain the presence and establish a link?"

"For you, yes." Záření whispered.

"Thank you Konrad." Olovo replied, before turning to the data before her and taking her seat, with his own facing hers and to her side. She held down the comm still as she gave an order, "All ships prep battery one of their missiles, all coil-gun crews to max readiness, five seconds to jump. One thousand and one, one thousand and two, one thousand and three, one thousand and four, one thousand and five."

The seven vessels activated their hyper-drives, projecting a gate just in front of them, and turned on their engines to throw themselves into it. At the right moment, they would open another gate, leave hyper space, and as practiced begin firing right away.

[Principality of Zundrbar]

Chancellor Rumsfeld relaxed in his seat as his image appeared on nearly every Hypervid set in the Dominion, even the Dominion assets in the Pyuk'vur System. He had been visiting Dominion Armed Forces units in the Asaph System, where they had just taken a major loss. Though the Asaph Remnant Government, or ARG, had long waged a conventional and insurgent war on the occupying forces, there had been progress steadily favoring the Dominion.

"My fellow citizens of the Dominion," he said with a tone that made even Buchanan straighten his back, "Our nation is in trying times. Though we have pulled ourselves up by our bootstraps from the greatest economic crisis in our nation's history, there are still many problems left to be solved. It is with great sorrow that I announce that the Dominion Armed Forces has lost control of the city of New Damascus in the Asaph System.

Buchanan mouthed a "fuck" as he continued watching. Losing New Damascus would mean losing six months of progress and thousands of Dominion lives, not even getting into the number of civilian casualties. The Chancellor paused on the Hypervid recording, letting the silence fade, and began once again.

"But our nation has known struggle in our past and we will know struggle in our future. Our nation is defined by our commitment to defeating the enemies of freedom. To abandon this mission would be to abandon what makes our Dominion exceptional. And as Chancellor of the Dominion, I promise to the people of the Dominion that we shall not be dictated to and nor shall we appease the enemies of freedom!"

It might've sounded cliche, but this was the bread and butter of Dominion politics.

"Today in the Senate is the widow of Sergeant Ari Bern, Lauren Bern. Lauren met Sergeant Bern when they both studied in their twenties at the National Defense Institute in Fairway and got married shortly after completing their educations. Sergeant Bern is the father of four healthy children."

There was a tentative pause collectively in the Senate. The thousands of people sitting in that hall were all veterans themselves. Nowhere in history had someone done what the Chancellor was doing now.

"Early yesterday morning, during the Second Battle of New Damascus, Sergeant Bern sacrificed himself for his fellow soldiers and for his country, by ordering his squad to disobey orders and protect caravans of wounded still being evacuated out of the city. 3 hours after he saved hundreds of lives, his comrades brought the Sergeant back in a body bag. They said his last words were, 'Tell my children I did it for them."

Rumsfeld swallowed hard and it was clear to any that he was fighting back tears as he told the story of Sergeant Bern. "And as Chancellor of the Dominion, I promise you, Mrs. Bern, that your husband did not die in vain."

There it came. The thundering applause. Not from the Senate, they were giving him a standing ovation for the third time in this speech. Something had possessed nearly everyone watching- Buchanan, the Vice Admiral, Captain Cain, and even some Black Eagles operatives to stand up and clap. The clapping on the Hypervid continued for more than a minute before the hypercast faded out and the station returned to regular news.

And that was Chancellor Rumsfeld giving an address on the Fall of New Damascus. Already, the streets of Fairway are lined with cheering protestors, some of whom have been out here for days since the MagLev bombing. The camera panned to Dominion citizens, most of them lower middle class, if not poor, holding up hand-made signs in the torrential rain.

Don't leave us behind, Chancellor!

Don't cut and run!

Freedom isn't free!

And in other news today, repairs from the Days of Fire attacks are already underway in major population centers with provincial administrators crafting pro-business legislation to generate tax reven-

Buchanan shut off the Hypervid and nodded to Cain and the Vice Admiral. Following Buchanan, the three headed down to the elevator in order to reach the boarding dock, where they would be greeting the delegation from the Prole Confederation. The Black Eagles operatives had been transferred to the landing bay, per Buchanan's request, and thus the trio were greeted by a squad of Marines as protection. Buchanan could tell from the stern looks on their faces that they had watched the Chancellor's address and saw themselves in Sergeant Ari Bern.

As they exited the elevator, Marines lined the corridors and gave their salutes as they walked past. The vessel was well-fortified in the hopes that if the Confederation tried any dirty tricks, they could at least have the chance of giving them a bloody nose before being annihilated.

Then, the trio stepped into the landing bay. The Dominion flag in the room was at half staff, but that was probably the hardest thing to notice behind the well fortified and well armed Black Eagles operatives.

"Isn't this a bit extreme, even for you Buchanan?" The Vice Admiral, "Doesn't seem like it's going to do us much good."

Buchanan shrugged back, "An armed society is a polite society."

[Doppio Giudici]

Pvuk-Yur Solar System, Masunk' Planet

"I have a bad feeling about this." Simon admitted, as he got on his jacket and looked over the instructions for boarding.

"I am not, Sir." Yoshua stated, checking his carbine after having cleaned it "With Paul and his forces in reserve and a small team of my forces with you, we should be fine. They will be shown the true power of our belief, should a single hair on your head be damaged."

Yoshua smiled at Anaiah and she smiled back.

"That extends to you as well, Anaiah." Yoshua affirmed, "You will be in good hands, and I will select my three finest to go up with us."

"I'm excited to find out who they might be." Anaiah replied, before hearing a beep on her device. She looked down at it and moved things in it around, before looking at her husband "We have a few transmissions and a data convoy showed up, so one of us needs to go over that."

"I'm currently trying to figure out what I am going to say to get them on our good side." Simon confessed, sighing out.

"I'll handle the transmissions, if you can convince me." Anaiah teased.

He looked up at her and took a few steps forward, before placing his hands on her cheeks. Simon pressed his forehead to hers and stared deep into her eyes for half a minute, saying nothing.

"Bien-Aimé?" He whispered to her

Anaiah blushed brightly and nodded a little, before giving him a quick kiss. She took his arm and held it, before putting some bluetooths on her ears. The Vice-Governor clicked the play button to a message and smiled at Yoshua.

"Lead the way, kind Sirs." Anaiah asked politely.

Pvuk-Yur Solar System, Masunk' Orbit

The large transport craft was normally used to unload people and cargo onto the surface, it was normally stored inside trading ships, which were repurposed colonization designs. It docked at the space-station in orbit and unloaded a few teams of "Ashamed", before deploying a small shuttle to carry the remaining six passengers to to their destination. Once it had docked, it opened up a hatch, allowing the four man Kinful team to deploy and looked around with their eyes.

"Clear." Yoshua said, looking at those who where there to greet them, "Somewhat."

Anaiah and Simon stepped out, each having an armed locked with the other like before. Simon bowed with his wife to those before them, followed by a quick pressing of the arm against the chest, in the diagonal salute. Anaiah quickly went back to listening and reading the messages, while Simon spoke, as he as not distracted.

"Hello again, I see you brought..." Simon tilted his head, looking over the dark uniforms "Operators? Paramilitaries perhaps? Was your last visit that bad?"

[Principality of Zundrbar]

"Whatever you say," the Vice Admiral said with a shrug, "At least they weren't this way with us."

Buchanan looked down and grinned, "Remind me again, Vice Admiral, how many interstellar negotiations have you managed again?" He looked back at the ground, "I assure you, if either I or the Chancellor wanted to hurt them, we'd bring something more than a bunch of alien hunters and secret police. And I'm sure they know that as well." He fixed the collar of his white shirt for a moment, "Have all the preparations been made for the meeting room?"

"Yes, I made sure they had prepared it before we left," Cain replied, nodding, "We're giving them a three course meal- classy. The way you Inner System folks do it," he said grinning and nudging Buchanan in the arm, "First will be a gourmet beet salad with goat cheese. Second course will be a New York Strip- Kobe- with large king trumpet mushrooms and a sprig of mushrooms. For that king of a steak, they're gonna get Cabernet Sauvignon."

"And dessert?" The Vice Admiral asked, "I'm pretty stunned you know all this information Cain, you don't seem like the type."

Cain chuckled, "For dessert they're serving an apple pie- standard Dominion cooking. And I'm just repeating what the chefs said."

Buchanan nodded, "Good, good, I take it they'll be having drinks and smokes offered to them as well?"

Cain nodded, "Of course- wines of their choosing and access to my personal collection of smokes." He looked down and lit a cigarette, "Took a lot of convincing from the Vice Admiral to get me to agree to that."

Buchanan nodded, "I can imagine. I haven't smoked a real cigar since I left the Dominion. I cold use one; I always preferred them to cigarettes."

"There's a place and time for everything," Cain replied, letting out a puff of smoke, "I have to say, after a good day of hunting, I'm game for a good cigar too." He punched him in the shoulder, laughing.

Buchanan turned forward as the representatives of the Confederation trickled out. "My apologies on the tense welcome," he said with a smile, "This is standard protocol. They are here to ensure the confidentiality of our negotiations. If you'll follow me, we have a meeting room set up with some of the finest cuisine from our culture."

[Doppio Giudici]

Simon's eyes glowed for a few seconds and he looked over Buchanan, before moving his right ear up and then his left ear. Yoshua, his men and woman, looked at the other guards and replied the head gesture. Anaiah pulled the headphones out of her ears as her husband started walking forward again, before stuffing everything into her pants. Both her and her husband wore grey khakis with a semi-tight feel, as they were 'slims', and were coated with at least four pockets on the sides. Each of them had a dress shirt and a silk jacket on, the shirt white, and the jacket grey. Yoshua and his team were dressed in operator gear, peering through goggles at everything. They were wired to each other with a headset and clutched silenced automatic carbines, all of them with arm-braces. Their helmets wrapped around their heads and covered everything but their faces, making them effectively deaf. A microphone picked up all sounds and played them four times louder, but after a certain loudness sounds were not recorded. It took at least a month of training to get used to everything sounding so close, and to guess distance with such narrow hearing. Sounds were rarely very quiet or very loud, which took some getting used to. Over the years the software had been messed around with, so that sounds close enough were kept at a good volume, and sounds further away were made just slightly quieter then good.

Yoshua hoped that those before them didn't know they could almost hear them breathing, that every whisper had a chance of being heard. He led the way with the two politicians behind him, his team scanning the area in predicted cycles. As the group made their way to the meeting room, the married team shook hands and bowed again, before taking their seats. Yoshua and his team stood just behind them, looking around the room.

"So tell me, Vice Admiral." Simon asked, looking at all the strange food, "I'm not the best with names, but I still want to be polite. Would their happen to be a nickname you go by, something catchy that I would seem thoughtful by using?"

[Principality of Zundrbar]

The Vice Admiral, "You can call me Solomon, if you'd like." He gestured at Buchanan, "This is Commandant Gordon Buchanan; he'll be joining us for the negotiations, if you don't mind."

Buchanan picked up from Solomon, "Solomon has told me much about your nation. From what I hear, I have tremendous respect for your nation's people and its customs. Yours, like our own, has had a history marked by strife and struggle, with a commitment to hunt down those that practice evil in the galaxy. The repressive regimes of the galaxy do not merely oppress their own people, but are a threat to every free system."


Buchanan then continued, "I apologize for the heavy security presence on board this vessel, but we believe it is beneficial for us to keep these negotiations as confidential as possible, to avoid any controversy in our governmental institutions." Buchanan then walked forward and held out a hand to Simon, "The Dominion of Zundrbar welcomes you and your people to this negotiation and we hope that you enjoy your stay on board this vessel."

He turned around and led the way for Cain, Solomon, and the representatives of the Confederation. As they headed for the meeting room, Black Eagles operatives stood at attention. Finally, the group reached the meeting room and two operatives held the door for them, opening to a table with several open chairs, with plates, glasses, and cutlery. Azaliah, Solomon's secretary, smiled as she handed each participant a copy of the vessel's alcohol and smoking selections.

"Enjoy your stay in the Dominion," Azaliah said with a smile to the Confederation representatives before walking out.

[Doppio Giudici]

Simon narrowed his brows at Buchanan and gave him a look, before they had headed towards the room. Now that they were there and they had learned a thoughtful nickname they could use, Anaiah tugged on her husband's shoulder. She moved her eyebrows up and down, before he did the same and then gestured to those before them. Anaiah cleared her throat and leaned over the table a bit.

"In the nature of honesty, your transmission was easier to pickup on our space-station then your vessel." Anaiah admited, frowning a little, "It didn't appear to be classified in any way, so I already have heard the speech. And since my husband must know everything I know, including your loss of New Damascus."

"I have no idea where that is." Simon stated, looking at his wife and then those before him blankly.

"And since there is a um, atmosphere of fear that we seem to create around us, that you dwell in." Anaiah suggested, tapping her fingers on the table, "If the nature of your problem is per say, just, I would call my comrades to sweep aside your enemy. Surely, they and you must be tired from the fighting, but my people are overeager. If the nature of the conflict is to say, hazy and complicated, then I would be forced to advise my comrades to push for a 'white peace'. What I mean by that is, is that what you had before the war should be yours and in exchange you lose what you gained. I am very eager to help you, but the nature of most wars is that they are pointless and stupid, fought over words and ideas that people don't even follow."

"What my wife means by that, is that we have had time to take a step back and see things from a wider angle." Simon added, "When we see two people we don't exactly agree with, we prefer they not hurt each other, where others would hope the two sides wipe each other out. Now, if this was a fight between say, tyrants and tyrants, we would step in with a vengeance. This is not that conflict, but our trust comes quick but only in pieces. If you wanted a low interest loan, I would give it now without question, but this matter requires a little more bonding."

[Principality of Zundrbar]

Azaliah returned, holding a box of parejo cigars for the negotiators, handing one to Buchanan, Solomon, and Cain before offering them to the Confederation representatives.

Cain put the head of the cigar into his mouth before lighting it and releasing a puff of smoke. "We selected the speech given that it conveyed what our nation holds dear, which we find to be a common point between our two nations- we wanted you to see what we're fighting for. The basis of our society can be found in the family unit and the notion of individual rights."

Buchanan picked up, "Our motives for invading the Asaph System were, unfortunately, too objective that negotiation with the enemy was never on the table. The Asaphites declared war on us when they decided it was okay to fund launch state-sponsored attacks on our soil. As our Chancellor once said, 'Those who celebrate death will taste it soon enough.' While I respect your offer of negotiations, I'm afraid that if there is going to be any intervention in this conflict; it will be in the first variety."

Buchanan, after letting out another puff of smoke, continued, "Certainly your society, just as our own, understands that there can be no negotiation, no compromise, no appeasement of a foe of this nature. The security of our families and the interests of our Dominion are neither for sale nor up for discussion." Letting a potential ideological opponent intervene would be a tough sell to Rumsfeld himself, let alone his counterparts in the Senate, but a low interest loan from them would be political suicide for the Chancellor.

Solomon focused back on the topic of the speech, "The loss of New Damascus was a major blow to our war effort. It's the largest city in the Asaph System and was the major staging ground for our pacification of the remaining territories. After the initial success we enjoyed, the remnants of the Asaph government retreated to the fringes of the system and dug their heels in, while sponsoring legions of terrorist infiltrators to disrupt our supply lines. We had previously seen New Damascus as a safe haven for our forces, in fact, it was the center for most of our aid to the Asaphite war refugees. Unfortunately, our forces were overwhelmed by a combination of government forces and insurgents, so we've seen the remnant government taking major ground against us, to put it nicely."

"With that being established," Solomon said, "We would be welcome to a discussion on your potential intervention in the war. Though we would have to discuss it with our senior military commanders before a finalized plan can be established and I certainly am not coming to the table with the expectation that your nation will sacrifice its blood and treasure for another nation you just met, I think that our nations should embrace our shared moral clarity in this hour of darkness and work to the finish the war in an honorable manner that does justice to both the victims in the Dominion and the Asaphite victims of their government's tyranny and oppression."

[Doppio Giudici]

Simon followed by the others shook their hands or softly pushed the box of cigars away, not wanting anything to do with them. For the most part he and his wife listened, with the usual rubbing of each others arms or rubbing their legs against each other under the table. It helped them stay focused during such an unloading of possible hogwash or at least slanted perspectives. After it was over, Simon stood up and leaned over the table. He smiled softly at Solomon, before glaring at the new stranger.

"I think we more interested in blood then treasure." Simon stated, before pointing at Solomon. "Alliances used to be marriages. We have the treasure, you need to give your blood. You need to prove your interests are our interests, and that means you need to become one of us."

Simons finger sweeped over tithe stranger, who he didn't trust and refused to learn the name of.

"You are a conservative, corporate type yes?" Simon questioned, "You have people you look down upon, people who do things you don't understand? People you don't want and people who don't want you?"

He slammed his head down on the desk and kept his eyes looked on the stranger.

"I can feel it." Simon insisted, "Solomon here is beginning to sense what is true and what is just, but you....You smell like politics and pandering. I do not know if its you of you father or boss, but you are drenched in politics. You bath in secrets and whispers, and a Prole speaks only the truth. A Prole doesn't care if people like them, so long as one person does. A Prole tells painful truths and is their biggest critic. So to this I say, Bless your people and I look forward to helping you, but we have the upper hand. I have the upper hand, and so you must give your trash and your shining Solomon to me, or we will not help you. You can have your trade and your gift baskets, but if you want a crusade you must give us what is sacred."

He took his jacket off and pushed it across the table, followed by his phone, his watch, and his personal sidearm still in its holster.

"Take my weapon, take my valuables, take my assets." Simon declared, before shaking his half open and clenched hands. "But give me the refugees, so that the Enlightened One may smile upon me. Give me the orphans, give me the rubble, give me the shattered dreams. Turn my brothers over to me, so that we be can be strong. Is the value of your ego greater then victory? Would you prefer destruction over turning over outcasts to freaks?"

Anaiah put her hand on him and pulled lightly, but he stood anyways. Simon gestured to Yoshua, and clicked his tongue.

"Yoshua, where do you come from?" Simon asked

"A crime of bodily sovereignty, my mother was raped." Yoshua said, having gotten over it mostly over the years.

"And are all Kinful like this?"

"All of them, Sir."

"And who is better at fighting then the Kinful?"

"The Level Five Treasonists."

Simon looked at Yoshua, not expecting that answer. He stared quietly for a few moments.

"Who are they?" Simon questioned, the words barely slipping out.

"The rapists, the mass-murders." Yoshua explained, not that he felt he really had too. "Born without a conscience, they lived broken lives and they broke people. Now that we have give the the therapy they need, they live in shame over what they did. They try to kill each other unless told not too, so great is their shame."

Simon sat down, speechless. He had not expected a Kinful to speak in such a way over people they had once hated. Yoshua walked over to the other side of the table and looked over at what was his side. He looked at all of the strangers in dark uniforms and Solomon, smiling just a little. He stood there thinking a long time, as others spoke around him. Finally, he said something.

"Let's be generous to these people." Yoshua suggested, "We could go speak to their admirals and senators, while Solomon speaks to Richard. Richard can't be moved, and the admirals can't be moved, so it is the place of others to go visit them. On top of that, we will give the outermost planets of this system, regardless of how the negotiations go."

[Principality of Zundrbar]

Buchanan remained calm at the sight of Simon's display, though Cain did not seem pleased while Solomon retained a neutral expression, albeit with undertones of concern. As Simon spoke of refugees and looking down on others, Buchanan was glad he had been assigned, more so because Chancellor Rumsfeld would be somewhere in between laughing hysterically and allowing his temper to get the best of him.

Buchanan was not impressed by the time that Simon had finished. He let out a puff of smoke from his cigar as he sighed softly and began his response. "Simon, to speak of the attacks on our own soil as a justification for the attack does not do justice to our military campaign in the Asaph System. Let me ask you- do you know what it's like to live under fascism? To have guns placed at your back so that you can applaud the deaths of your family members at the hands of a genocidal madman? Do you know what it would be like to live in the fringe territories to see the Asaphite army coming over the horizon, knowing that, at best, you and your family would live the rest of their days under an oppressive madman? Abolishing the entire existence of a nation of the galaxy- annexing it, making it part of Asaph. Do you know what it is like to sit back and listen to a genocidal madman speak to the victims of his regime and declare that his only, his sole mistake was that he chose to attack us before his forces were well prepared?"

"That is just to say of the crimes committed against his own people, which are a foreign policy concern of ours," Buchanan's voice had taken a stern tone. Such was to be expected from a man who, despite serving in private security for his entire military career, held a special place in his heart for his nation. "Our nation- our glorious Dominion, the shining beacon of freedom and the promise of liberty in our sector- had to live at the mercy of this man. The only reason why he is no longer seated in his palace in New Damascus is because of his own stupidity and we thank God for that every single day, regardless of whether the city is in our control or not."

"The liberation of Asaph, the decision that we would topple the greatest genocidal dictator in the history of our sector, will stand as the greatest statecraft decision of our Dominion. The soldiers who fought for it, the intellectuals who defended it, and the politicians who voted for it will take pride in their decision to champion that intervention for generations to come, despite the failures, despite the disappointments. We have removed an entire system from the iron grip of the greatest crime family that our sector has ever known. Our economy and the well-being of our people and those in the systems around us have finally been freed from the control of a fascistic madman and his terrorist gang."

Buchanan continued with iron in his voice, as Cain and Solomon both felt a sense of national pride within them, "For actuarial purposes, allow me to inform you that when New Damascus fell, we sent a message to every tyrant and enemy of freedom in this sector that you have the options of freedom by choice or freedom by force."

"Now you may sit back on your high horse and say that bring our capitalistic and corporate subjugation to every nation around us," Buchanan said with no neutrality left in his tongue, "That we are imperialists of the worst kind. Well allow me to correct you, our Dominion was just as imperial allowing this regime to strip away rights of its citizens and to engage in open genocide as it was in toppling this regime. It is just as imperial for us to leave the status quo in place and sanction the mass murder of fellow members of our species as it would be to intervene. Our nation intervened on the right side of history and I am proud that I was supporter of that intervention."

Buchanan's face began showing patches of red from his ire, "Now Simon, you may sit back and slander us for looking down on certain individuals and certain ideologies. Allow me to say that I have nothing but disdain for those who sympathize with the comrades of evil."

Buchanan paused for a moment and took a few silent breaths, his cigar smoking in his hands, "Take your damn refugees."

[Doppio Giudici]

"I know exactly what fascism is like." Simon replied, without hesitation, "Fascism is a culture or nation where the military has power over the civilian goverment and the people praise, idolize, or worship the military. You know what fascism is like too, your military has called most of the shots for this entire process, despite my supremely militaristic culture which put a civilian in charge of this on our end."

Yoshua put his hands behind his back and looked over at Buchanan to see what he was thinking. He was really beginning to understand why Simon preferred Solomon, who preferred to say nothing then to speak opinions or propaganda. The operator looked back at his governor, wondering if he was aware of what he was doing.

"Freedom?" Simon pressured, leaning forward into the table and showing his teeth, "Liberty? Have you even looked in the mirror or any of the many nations based out of Nidus? There are dozens of powers as restricted as you appear, with dozens more who have much more liberties."

Simon lifted his fist and slammed it into the table, snarling at those before him.

"The ten or so systems that you can even sense, this densely populated pocket, is but a fraction of a fraction of this quadrant." Simon declared, raising a hand and pointing upward, "There is alliances, and even single powers, who could take on your people, my people, all of the people of Nidus, your enemies, and then some.There are dark, dark powers with dozens of systems, that neither of us should even dare to catch the attention off at this state. To think you could take them on is not only foolish, but so stupid that any child who can count would know not to do it."

He held up his hand and made his finger touch his thumb, one of his eyes twitching from the rage that burned within him.

"Zero, I have zero enemies at the moment." Simon insisted, "How many do you have? One? Two? Three perhaps? Would you like four or five? How much debt do you want to run up? Is it really that hard to take a gift, a free gift? Are you too prideful and eager to die, to accept the most simple and beneficial of trades?"

He picked up some of the food on the table with his hand, looking it over and then dropping it, before wiping his palms with a napkin.

"I don't give a fuck if you are capitalistic." Simon revealed, his breath rising and falling, "You think I or my people give a fuck about meaningless words people made up to justify things they already wanted to do? You think we care about what flag we live under or what the name of our country is, or what color we are or what bodies we posses? Do you think we care if we even get a burial site to our bodies?"

Anaiah pulled on her husbands torso and shoved him down into his chair, holding him down with both her hands. Having been caught off guard and being fairly old, Simon found himself quickly seated. One of her hands remained on him, while she turned to look across the table. Her eyes stared forward, before glancing around for something, before she found it. Her eyes glowed for a moment and she spoke softly, her voice seeming to carry just a little.

"Would you sit here and quietly eat this food, not noticing anyone but me?" Anaiah suggested, looking at him.

He immediately started cutting something up and quietly eating it. She looked over at the strangers and her eyes were back to normal, as if nothing had happened. Anaiah glanced over at Yoshua and mouthed a series of words quickly, while Yoshua watched her. He grumbled and mouthed a series of words back, but appeared to be actually whispering them very softly. Anaiah rolled her eyes and snapped her left hand three times, before Yoshua sighed softly. The Operator looked over at Solomon and then Buchanan, trying to run all the possibilities together in his mind. Gritting his teeth, he realized that few of them were optimal and he might as well do as she asked. Yoshua reached into his uniform and pulled out a pair of earbugs that wrapped around the ear to hold them in place, like the one the two officals wore. One of them had the usual microphone attached, but Solomon was quick to attempt to link it up wirelessly to his onboard database, which held around 20 terabytes of information on translations alone.

"Anaiah will turning her translator off and will be working from the oldest language she knows, even switching languages as needed." Yoshua explained, swallowing, "We will be turning our translation software off, and the operators will be adjusting our headsets so we don't pickup anything you say. Nothing said in your home language or universal will be understood, unless it is specifically you saying it into specifically this device. You try anything else and we will be leaving, you get your mining rights to the outermost planets, but are stuck dealing with your own problems alone."

[Principality of Zundrbar]

Solomon looked at the device for a moment and then glanced back at Buchanan, "Looks like we're back where we started," he said to Buchanan and Cain with a tense look on his face. He might've had a more friendly exterior than Buchanan, but it would be a mistake to assume that he did not tacitly endorse Buchanan's positions. "I don't trust them, but he is right that the Quadrant is a big place, much less the galaxy."

Buchanan sighed and let out another puff of smoke, "I suppose, but is that really an excuse for appeasement?" He replied in a much calmer tone, "They're talking about giving us low interest loans, sending forces to help our own, and giving us the mining rights in this system, all so that they can get a bunch of lowlifes and nobodies? Sounds like a cheap source of espionage to me."

Cain nodded, "I can't say I'm fond of the idea either. We give them a bunch of rejects that despise our way of life, but have extensive knowledge of our own urban environments and we're supposed to give them the benefit of the doubt? Even if we personally agree with it, there's no way that excuse is passing through the Senate."

Solomon thought for a moment and then looked at the translator, "What are your motives for accepting the refugees of our society?"

[Doppio Giudici]

Solomon thought for a moment and then looked at the translator, "What are your motives for accepting the refugees of our society?"

"You are either growing or you are dying." Anaiah stated, speaking the language of Tima, "Fresh blood would mean new ideas, new books, new movies, new music, which would be good for all of us on a socio, political, and economical level. New workers, new customers; A short respite in our eternal loneliness."

She drummed her fingers on the table and thought about the right words, having taken the language a few years ago and having since then only spoken it with the religious elders.

"For you, they are oil, which is not-charged." Anaiah continued, "In this fable, you would be water, which is charged. Water and oil can't mix, so these groups are stuck in your society unable to mix or function. Just as they refuse to change to adapt, you refuse to adapt to them. Our society would like to be charged on one end and not charged on the other, so that we can be the link between the both of you, but we seem to only be more water. We are charged, your outcasts are charged, and so they will sink into our society like sand in a dune."

She reached across the table and pulled back the things that her husband had placed upon it, before slowly returning them to him. Anaiah put his holster back on his hip and returned his jacket as well, quietly moving with her skilled fingers, while he barely noticed her.

"We have always had ores and we have made due with poor soil, so what we value most is people." Anaiah went on, having now switched to Frankish "We export finished goods and technology, so well-read and un-read labor is very important to us. We have a society where people can work and expect to be taken care of. Power doesn't come from what land and resources you can control, but it comes from the people who respect and love you. Sell-Swords sometimes run away, conscripts can only fight enemies less scary than their leaders, but your family can be expected to fight to the death."

The Vice-Governor reached to her headset and turned her translation software back on, but still had it turned so she didn't understand anything they said in her language.

"I am a Beloved." Anaiah admitted, putting her hands on her hips, "Where other nations struggle over the issue of abortion, my people have resolved it long ago. The mother wants to lose responsibility of the child and others want the child to live, so my people found a way to provide abortion without providing an abortion. Take the embryo, move it to a volunteer or a synthetic womb, almost always a volunteer. The baby is born normally, raised by the state with the finest education, alongside hundreds of siblings that they are not related to. Society doesn't know who the parents are, so they invest their time as if they are all the parents. Eighteen years pass, and you have a child who is raised by the nation, fed by the nation, clothed by the nation, and who the nation has chosen over and over. I have repaid my people by being in the upper echelon for education, efficiency, and leadership qualities."

She tapped two fingers on the table, looking over at the Kinful around them and then at her husband.

"The Beloved, Kinful, and those in the house of Seth; have amassed much power due to their desire to make their parents, the people, proud of them." Anaiah began to finish "Those who are children of leaders and specialists, pass down their skills and knowledge. They use the extra wealth and power society gives them, to pass down the finest education and training to their children, who do the same for their children. I have gone without parents, the martyrs go without their lives, the politicians go without their sleep. Sacrifice is how you move up the ladder and the disenfranchised have lost enough, they will succeed here. Their loss will make them eager to rebuild their lives and achieve again what was taken from them. Their pain, their memories, will be turned into light."

[Principality of Zundrbar]

Solomon nodded as they explained their motives, setting aside his distrust that grew by the minute and listening intently. Buchanan and Cain looked sternly at Solomon as he listened to the translation of the Confederation delegation's response.

"What are we looking at here?" Buchanan asked as Solomon turned to face him and the Dominion delegation pondered their response.

"He says their society needs fresh blood. They like the new ideas and new cultures brought in by the refugees and their role as new workers and new customers was also emphasized. They say that their state derives its rule from the love of the people underneath it and that they value labor above other resources."

Buchanan let out a puff of smoke, close to finishing his cigar, "Was that everything?"

"They spoke a bit more about their society and how struggle and sacrifice pushes you up the social ladder, but other than that I covered pretty much everything," Solomon took a sip of whiskey, "What's our response?"

"For fucks sake, we're about to start a diplomatic crisis over a bunch of cheap labor?" Buchanan shook his head and finished his cigar, before taking his knife and fork and cutting into the filet mignon sitting in front of him, "We're putting our national security on the line so that they can get cultural enrichment? Wonderful."

"Before we take any action in regards to their demands, we'd need to take a vote on it in the Senate," Cain added, "Perhaps informing them of our legislative procedure would make it easier for us to get out of the requirement." Cain chewed his steak and wiped the sides of his mouth with his napkin, "Their aid, while it would be nice, doesn't exactly seem like it's a necessity."

Buchanan nodded, "Reminding them of the republican nature of our state seems important, but shouldn't we first establish what the consequences are? Like I said before, I may not like handing over a bunch of needle pushing degenerates and hippies, but if it avoids interstellar war we shouldn't take it off the table."

Solomon nodded, "I'll ask them what the consequences would be." He cleared his throat and leaned in to the translator, "What is your nation willing to sacrifice to take our nation's refugees, should we refuse to hand them over."

[Doppio Giudici]

Anaiah looked over at Solomon and narrowed her brow. She looked over at her husband and then at the commandos, almost opening her mouth to say something. The vice-governor closed her mouth and then looked back at Solomon.

"I was going to say that we would postpone our coming crusade and just deal with you first." Anaiah admitted, "However, I do not actually know how many you have, how bad their conditions are, and if war wouldn't just make the problem worse. Considering that you are already facing enough loss of life, I doubt that a vote would lead to war."

She drummed her fingers on the table and tilted her head, before swaying it to the other side in thought.

"Most likely, it would cause complete economic warfare." Anaiah proposed, "Economic warfare is still warfare and will still cause some degree of harm, but that too might not actually do anything but hurt your already suffering outcasts and not even affect your leadership. I suppose that with a lot of nudging and careful thought, the most educated outcome would be to enter your conflict as a third party. Any areas you already softened up would quickly fall to us and whenever you try to make any gains, you would have to consider that we would profit more from them then you. As a nation on the board, you will have to take great pains to consider your position and your movements, unlike now."

She tilted her head to the side and spook, still talking into the translator, but this time in a language the rest of her people understood.

"Do you think it would be fair to enter this conflict of theirs, but as a third party?" Anaiah asked her security team,

"Depends on the other two sides, but I am just as motivated for that conflict as the other one we were planning." Yoshua answered.

"Aye, Sir." One of his commandos added.

"So you personally have no issue with getting involved if for the right reasons?" Anaiah inquired.

"None at all, I am ready." Yoshua affirmed

Anaiah turned her head back to face Solomon, before nodding slowly, her hands now interlocked.

"That's the most likely event to take place, we would get involved as a third faction." She finished.

[Principality of Zundrbar]

Solomon stroked his chin as he listened. The scourge of economic warfare had been the bane of the Dominion's commitment to preserving free and open markets. Of all the Dominion's ideological competitors, it was perhaps state capitalism that was the most pernicious. The Rumsfeld Administration had long spoken of the vulnerabilities in the nation's economic agenda and had promised to support the nation's private sector against foreign state-owned bodies. But what concerned Solomon was more the end of what Anaiah had said.

Buchanan looked over at Solomon, who appeared deep in thought, "Well, Solomon? What was their response?"

Solomon sighed, "They've promised a response of economic warfare. Open war is a possibility, but it's more likely they'll enter the Asaph War as a third party."

Buchanan sighed and shook his head, "For fucks sake." The Dominion had long been skeptical of other nations and cultures in the galaxy, but to losing the Asaph War was out of the question. Too many lives had been lost for them to piss it away in vain and Cain, Solomon, and even Buchanan knew this. If the Asaph War was on the line, the Chancellor and the Senate would back this measure. "Solomon, get a clear definition of what they mean by refugees- prisoners of war, terrorists, criminals. Cain, inform the Chancellor of the status of the negotiations."

Solomon leaned in and cleared his throat, "We are open to cooperation with your Confederation. What is your definition of a refugee?"

Office of the Chancellery, Dominion Territory
Senate Majority Leader Uriel Irving entered the Office of the Chancellery, smoking a cigarette as he strolled in wearing one of the business suits he had worn during his days as a corporate executive.

"I take it you got Cain's briefing as well?" Irving asked. The Chancellor had bags under his eyes and had a near-blank expression on his face. "We're going to have to put negotiations up to a senate vote pretty soon."

Rumsfeld had spent the past few hours contemplating the resulting political tempest. "We're going to have go on overdrive to make sure the party doesn't fall apart. Our largest electoral victory in history and we get handed this shitty plate."

Irving sighed and breathed out a cloud of smoke. Nearly twenty years the Chancellor's elder, Rumsfeld had been his deputy for a long time. Both were businessmen with backgrounds in the private sector- Rumsfeld in arms manufacturing and Irving in energy. "Miles is briefing Senate leadership on the status of the negotiations. Open floor vote goes up in twelve hours- tomorrow morning."

"Either we lose the Asaph War and risk destroying the Dominion or we appease them and risk destroying the Dominion," Rumsfeld said bluntly.

"I was a senator when Lieberman was Chancellor," Irving said, attempting to reassure the Chancellor. There was nobody in the Dominion, even in opposition, who doubted Rumsfeld's patriotism. His great grandfather, Augustus Rumsfeld, had worked with Lieberman to found the Dominion. "He'd understand."

"We're appeasing another nation," Rumsfeld replied firmly, "Who's to say that they won't turn this around on us and use them to expose the flaws and vulnerabilities in our society, or use them as an offensive force to invade the Dominion?" He shook his head and took a sip from his glass.

"The alternative is the complete destruction of the Dominion, Mr. Chancellor," Irving said humbly. He had always respected Rumsfeld's deep convictions.

"I'd rather the Dominion collapse by following its principles than by abandoning them," Rumsfeld spat back harshly. There was a silence in the room as Irving sensed how much this matter meant to the Chancellor. Irving sighed and finished his cigarette, stubbing it out in the office's ashtray.

"You know, I always hated politics," said Rumsfeld, finishing his glass as he watched Irving depart.

"Me too," said Irving, walking out of the room and heading for Senator Hunter's briefing.

[Doppio Giudici]

Anaiah watched them discuss the matters and watched their faces, trying to gleam what she could. There was sighing, some anger, some shaking of a head, and finally leaning into the microphone.

"Refugees are any foreigners wanting to get out of their current location and unable to acquire citizenship somewhere else." Anaiah easily answered, as it was a textbook definition, "Since your military has to be a mere single digit percentage of your overall population and your likely hesitation to recruit refugees into it, along with their hesitation to get involve in a war they are trying to avoid, puts the people of this other system you are in squarely as refugees."

She drummed her fingers on the table, once more, this time to the beat of the hymn of loss. Tap, tap tap tap. Tap, tap tap tap. Tap, tap tap tap

"Political refugees would be anyone you wouldn't allow to join your military for political reasons, who again, wants to leave your territory and previously couldn't find somewhere else to go." Anaiah added, feeling a hunch and acting upon it, "Some factions obviously would cross the line from refugees into terrorists, but typically most people wanting to leave their location are not organized, panic and fear is chaos. We wouldn't need you to sort those who want to leave from those who want to destroy, we can tell the difference between them very easily."

She leaned across the table a little, rubbing the hair of her husband, who had finished eating and was now reading from his device.

"Any Homo Sapiens of the Infecta sub-species has the potential to detect fear from cruelty, with the proper practice." Anaiah explained, "Solar Eyes lay dormant in all of us and a simple injection with a few days would allow the incoming people to learn how to detect the troublemakers among them. Not that we fear anything, you can't get away with much when everyone around you is carrying a service weapon."

[Principality of Zundrbar]

Solomon listened to Anaiah's response intently and fought off the urge to preoccupy himself with the politicking going on between the Chancellor and Cain. His mind raced with possibilities of selling this deal to the Chancellor, who had been on the fence earlier about the deal and certainly wouldn't change if they were demanding what amounted to a national security risk, backed up with the threat of societal extermination.

Solomon's eyebrow perked up when he heard Anaiah mention the circumstances of the war. Though part of him wanted to snap at the condescending tone, he held it back and nodded his head as she provided an exact definition. As she concluded, Buchanan looked over at Solomon with a serious look on his face.

"Well Solomon?" Buchanan asked, taking a sip from a glass of wine as he finished his cheesecake, "What are we forking over?"

Solomon swallowed hard with thoughts racing in his head. There were many different ways to interpret what Anaiah had just said. "They define a refugee as any foreigner who wants to get out of the country and live somewhere else," he managed to state as his mind raced re-analyzing her words.

"Elaborate," Buchanan said. He reached into his pocket and took out a pack of cigarettes and put one into his mouth and lit it as Solomon began. Buchanan look interested as he faced Solomon, as if he were becoming more open to this deal. "That's a broad generalization."

Solomon grinned as the realization hit him. He repeated the phrase, "Anyone who doesn't want to live in the Dominion is free to go. We don't have to sort out the dangerous ones from the friendly ones, they'll take care of that, and they'll even mop up the Asaph System for us."

Buchanan smiled and started laughing, "You're telling me that we were getting this worked up over one-way open borders? We're getting trade concessions, sending out those anti-Dominion communist freaks, AND getting the Asaph System open for our colonization?"

Solomon grinned and smiled back, "You bet your ass we are." He reached for his glass of whiskey and held it up to Buchanan, who matched it with his own glass of wine, making a small clinking noise. "And to think you got worked up over the best deal of the century," Solomon said in a jovial tone before preparing their response.

Solomon leaned into the microphone trying to contain his grin, "Before we can promise any outcomes, we'll have to put it up for a vote in the Senate, in keeping with our republican traditions, but allow me to assure you that our previous opposition to your plan was, perhaps, a bit unfounded now that you phrase it like that. I can assure you that our senators and institutions will see the benefits in cooperation with your Confederation."

Solomon reached forward with his glass of whiskey to repeat the same action he had done with Buchanan, "Now, what are you offering in terms of incentives?"

Senate Briefing, Office of the Chancellery
The Chancellor entered the hall as the briefing came to a close. Though there had been a tense atmosphere in the room in the beginning, there was nothing but joviality in the room now. The senators clinked glasses and grinned towards one another as they discussed how better off the Dominion would be without the communists, anti-war protestors, and degenerates.

Majority Leader Irving stood, watching Rumsfeld enter the room with a visage of pure seriousness. Rumsfeld was never the type of guy that liked fun, he always preferred business. Irving met the glance of Rumsfeld and started applauding, leading to a chorus of applause from the rest of the senators as Rumsfeld took the podium looking at the senators.

Rumsfeld maintained a serious look on his face as he took the podium. He watched the senators in silence for a few moments before beginning, "To say we've just struck the deal of the century is an understatement." He grinned widely, the happiest Irving had ever seen Rumsfeld. The senators rose and clapped, cheered, and laughed at the Chancellor's statement.

"In the name of the Office of the Chancellery, the republic that it safeguards, and the men who forged our great Dominion, I am humbled to announce the beginning of population transfers with the Prole Confederation."

[Doppio Giudici]

Nodding sure, smiling a little was fine, but this level of laughter and grinning was problematic. Were they laughing at her people, were they thinking this would be be a one sided arrangement? She rubbed her chin, wondering if maybe it wasn't such a good idea to try for peace, because peace could easily be worse then war. War was the releasing of tension that peace built up, war was the shrugging off of mistakes and errors.

"We won't destroy your ability to maintain a presence in this other system, by cutting off your supply-lines." Anaiah stated, as if by a reflex, "We won't fill your territory with free goods, called 'humanitarian aid' at prices lower then yours, which will cause people to stop buying your goods or complain when you set our 'gifts' on fire. It will be very easy to do what we always do and tell profit to go die in a corner, while you have to figure out what to do with billion of pairs of shoes, electronics, coats, and boxes of effective medial supplies. If you don't provide said goods to your homeless, the unrest begins, if you do the people who aren't homeless get angry. On top of all of that, we have an excuse to make the problem worse, if you torch what we give you."

She leaned down and kissed her husband on the forehead, before whispering, her lips till close to the mic.

"Wake up dearest, I need you again." Anaiah sighed out.

Simon blinked and looked over at her, before narrowing his brow.

"You made another command again, didn't you?" He asked

She moved the mic from her lips and nodded, putting her arms around him. She held him close and rubbed his back, breathing in his hair.

"Sorry dearest, I know how much you trust me and your temper made me ask." Anaiah answered, "I would never ask a favor from you, that I wouldn't repay. I will make it up to you, you have my word."

She let go of him and held his hand, as she pulled the mic back up to her face.

"No, if you provide us with your....Unwanted, then you won't have to worry about us at all." Anaiah went on, "By all means, if your Unwanted bother you, be happy they have somewhere else to go. Regardless of that, handing them over is still a means of bargaining and it's not going to get anything from us in return. Any land we capture after this point is ours, and we will not hand it over for anything unless you can offer something very good. It's likely you will have your enemies dealt with and brought to ruin, but we will take half this other system if possible. The end terms of this arrangement is you have less to worry about, less unwanted, less terrorists, less hostiles; but you have to go home and realize you are locked in a state of bitter neutrality with us. The people you conquer will likely want to stay where they are, or at least a lot of them will, and you will be forced to provide them a goverment they want. Sure, we will take some of them off your hands, the ones that want to leave, but you still have to take your tired, bloodied forces and maintain control. You might have to let them do things you wouldn't let your own people do."

She stood up and pulled her husband to his feet with her, rubbing his hand in hers.

"You still have the opportunity to come to a better deal, one where we will help you after the conflict is over and dark forces come to prey upon your nation." Anaiah explained, "All you have to do Solomon is come visit the center of our power, and realize what it means to be a Prole, that's all it takes. You just have to earn our trust."

She bowed and then stood up straight, Simon having bowed with her.

"I think that is everything, unless you got something else for us, we are leaving to start preparing our invasion fleet." Anaiah stated, before turning her head, "Get everyone ready to leave, please, I will tell you what happened on the way back. Long story short, we got part of what we wanted, but we are getting involved in their conflict as a third neutral party. We will be importing people soon, but their reactions seem to positive, perhaps they are going to fill up with spies."

"We will be able to tell them apart, the power of Seth lives within us." Simon figured.

"The power of the Enlightened One, released into all us, at the request of Seth." Anaiah corrected, "Let us not worship mortals in these dark times."

"The Enlightened One lives inside us all, but Seth is my friend."

"They are both inside us all and they are both our friends. Remember Vadia's anthem."

"There is no difference between you and me."

[Principality of Zundrbar]

Solomon's face straightened as he listened to Anaiah's threats of economic warfare. Though the nation's economic freedom was a source of pride for many citizens of the Dominion, it was a clear vulnerability and Anaiah made it clear that the galaxy was full of nations, not merely the Confederation, that would be able to exploit this weakness. That being said, the Dominion had a strong social fabric and though the nation embraced the free market, it had seen its fair share of struggle and hardship.

Solomon looked over at Buchanan, who seemed just about ready to head back to his office planetside. He looked at the expression on Solomon's face, a mix of pensive, concern, and annoyance. "What, there's more?" He asked.

"They want me to go visit their center of power to gain their trust," Solomon said coldly. "Highlighted their economic warfare strategies that they can use against us. Flooding our markets with humanitarian aid to drive down prices and then some garbage about disregarding profits."

Buchanan chuckled, "They underestimate our capabilities. But it's in the best interests of the Dominion that you go visit."

"If I get left behind enemy lines because you guys were gung ho on getting those hippies out of our Dominion, I swear-" Solomon said before Buchanan cut him off.

"You think Chancellor Rumsfeld is going to let one of the finest diplomats in Dominion history taken hostage in enemy lines?" Buchanan replied. The two had seemingly switched places, originally Buchanan's temper flared against the Confederation and Solomon positioned himself as the voice of reason. Though not quite reasonable, Buchanan had certainly adopted a more relaxed and even nonchalant attitude since his previous outburst that nearly derailed the negotiations.

"They clearly seem to trust me and if that can avoid an interstellar war I might as well take the risk."

"If anything happens, we've got your back," Buchanan said grimly, as if expecting something to happen to Solomon.

Solomon leaned in to the microphone, "It would be an honor to visit your center of power to solidify the relationship between our two nations."

As the Confederation representatives left the room, Solomon turned to Buchanan. "If I make it back to the Dominion alive, you owe me one," he said with a grin on his face.

"After this, I think we all owe you one Solomon," Azaliah said as she collected the dishes from the table.

[Doppio Giudici]

Several Hours Later

Smotherer, the single Expansion Class Extinguisher ever built and so far the only Extinguisher ever constructed. Five kilometers long with two forward facing coil-guns based off the ones in the Jagged Hatchet Class Annialator, but somewhat longer. The hulking ship warped into the system, with a Jagged Hatchet Class above it and below it, one to the right and one to the left. They exited the jump-gate built at the fringe of the system, one of only four that the Prole Confederation ever built, before hyper-drives became more portable, before the secrets of anti-matter was recovered. The ships started moving towards the edge of the system, but facing the next system they would move to. Another Jagged Hatchet Class Annihilator left the jump-gate, with four Iron Shield Class Destroyers surrounding it. This group moved toward their position as well, before the next group of a Jagged Hatchet and four Iron Shields jumped in. Each of the smaller groups moved so that they were at a diagonal angle of the Smotherer's group, ether up and to the right or down and to the left. A collection of resupply and transport vessels behind them, each a kilometer roughly long. Once they were all ready, the jump-drives activated and they all began to move in another dimension towards their target, the system being fought over by Zundrbar and strangers. Once they arrived their, they picked the closest planet to the fringe not held by Zundrbar and demanded a cease-fire. If they were fired upon, they would simply use the mechanisms in their armor and defense systems. Metal would be made to tumble and get past thick composite armor while moving sideways, missiles would be detonated by the minor field projected out of the shield, and energy rays would bounce at an angle off the ship, followed by the ships next to it or into space. A ship might be lost, but it was unlikely such an attack would be greeted with enough firepower to stop it.

Two Weeks Later

Solomon was given permission to enter the core system and had been told he would have two weeks to prepare. The procedure to be used, was that he would arrive at the planet he had met the Prole Confederation and take a transport to Nidus, like any civilian or returning military personnel would. He had a sleeping area and a bathroom to himself on the transport, with a limited but effective shower experience available, access to somewhat outdated news, along with a large supply of stored videos on the projected television on the wall. The carpet was very comfortable, almost of the design of beds a few decades prior, designed in a way that you could happily sleep upon it if you wanted to. The room had posters and images engraved into the wall, and the location of the ships shooting range was made available. When he got on the ship, if he had any military grade weapons on him, it was inspected to see if it would be a danger to the ship or violated any laws on humane deaths. If the ammo was incorrect, his weapon would be put in storage till the trip was over and he would be provided a semi-automatic shotgun like weapon, which accepted a wide number of ammos and rounds. A box of twenty practice loads would be in his room as well, at no cost to him. A small fridge would hold a number of fruits and vegetables, along with a pound of ground turkey and pseudo-turkey mix. When the meat was picked up, a message would play on the television.

"The process of animal cruelty had only caused health problems, moral stress, and sickness in the consumer." The screen explained in a friendly voice, "With the technology of tissue growth, it's possible to grow the meat without it ever being alive or capable of experiencing pain. To heighten your experiences, we have mixed the meat in with turkey raised open areas, which you shouldn't be able to tell from the grown meat. You also have access to three packets that can make your pound of meat taste anything from ground beef taco meet, to sloppy joes, to savory chicken. Please enjoy the available two burner stove and have a nice trip, along with a good life."