Dreams of a Better Future - Tales of the Roccan Resistance

[Nikolai]

Chief Gahuda carefully studied the pad in front of him. The latest intel on the Republic of Havensky. Not much of a report, really. It had been too little time since they got their first real asset within the alien republic.

He sighed.

He really wanted to be friends with the Havensky republic. His beloved Roccan Resistance had not been independent of the MSI for long, having fought them off not too long ago, all considered. He had no need for war.

But it seemed like it might come anyways. Just a week ago, the Havensky had claimed a border system. Roccan system. It did not bode well.

The Republic of Havensky is led by these charming beings.

Gahuda scratched his beak.

He had ordered a major buildup of the Roccan forces. Soon he would command two navies of Roccan ships, comprised of a majority of frigates, with some corvettes. They were strong. But were they strong enough to counter the Havensky armadas? He knew nothing of their strength. It might be half of Roccan’s. Or twice. There were no way to know for sure. The chances were they were equal, but chances were a bad thing to stake your future on.

He leaned back.

He commanded three planets. It seemed the Havensky republic had eight. There were few suitable planets around. If he were to strike, he better do it soon. Or not at all. He had tried to butter them up. Sent his best man to improve relations. The Havensky did everything to damage them.

And now this. A claim. A sure sign war was coming.

He had two navies, one full strength, one half, being built up. One shipyard. No way to know for sure how many the enemy had. It was a gamble, but it might be needed to be done.

Soon.

His gaze moved. The Panurian Raiders. On his borders, in the opposite direction. Close to all his home planets. At least the economy was booming. He could afford to pay them off. Which he had just done. The border was secure.

Panurian Raiders territory.

Probably.

And then it was the MSI and their debt collectors. He dared not refuse. But 5000 credits every 15 years and a payment plan of over 29 thousand years? At some point, that would have to end.

But not today. Today, they paid.

 

[Nikolai]

Cheif Gahuda looked at the reports from the border. Peaceful. No incursions, no crossings. It all seemed…peaceful.

He knew it was a lie. The Republic of Havensky were intent on war, and he knew it. But it seemed the war might not be something they could afford.

He opened the report from the government agent placed in the Havensky bureaucracy. Turmoil on the far ends of their empire. Conquered species, wanting freedom. Promising. He might have peace after all.

Of course, he would still go on with the naval buildup. He even had ordered an army to be built, in case of war. Then he would need boots on the ground.

He looked at another report. Voidglint. If it came to war, that planet would need to be secured. His new army would have to go in, after the fleet. A weak station, should not be a problem.

«Interesting» he said out loud. Signs of turmoil there, too. That would make over half the Havensky empire unstable. Perhaps it was still a possibility of this going nowhere.

A knock.

He looked up. He had told his secretary to not be disturbed. Must be important, he decided.

«Come in.»

Plume of Olive in all his might. (Made with Copilot)

In came Plume of Olive, his Minister of State.

«Sir, I have an urgent message from within Havensky space.»

Chief Gahuda cocked his head.

«Havensky? What do they want? A non-aggression pact, I hope?»

Plume of Olive shook his head, and gently stroked his right wing.

«No, sir. Not the government. Rebels. There has been an uprising in the far end of their empire. Conquered species, trying to break free. They…»

He trailed off.

«Yes?»

«They offer us their allegiance, if we promise them our protection against the Havensky government.»

The Chief nodded, stroked his chin.

«Really.»

Plume of Olive hesitated a moment.

«Sir, it’s two planets and seven star systems. It even contains two shipyards. Fiftyeight billion souls, willing to place their fate in our hands.»

He paused.

«But it would mean war, if the Havensky government fought back. They might not, sir.»

Chief Gahuda nodded silently.

«But it might.» he said.

He looked at the star map.

«The territory would be inaccessible to us without going through Havensky space.»

He tapped his desk with his wing.

«Assemble the Council.»

The Council with Chief Gahuda at the helm.

 

[Nikolai]

Feathers of Ebony, Minister of Defense and top commander of the assembled fleets of the Roccan Resistance, looked at the fleet in front of him. The Havensky host had invaded the Offe’ei system, bordering their homelands. His Offe’ei system, his homeland, and – in this time and space – his responsibility to protect.

He looked at the numbers. His fleet consisted of three naval units. One at full strength, one at a quarter at best. And the salved cruiser class ship rescued from that gas giant not too long ago. He would have preferred one unit, one fleet, but he could not command them all under one banner with the current technology. It was a too gigantuant ask. And the salvaged ship was too different technologically to be a part of one of the other fleets, he was told.

He scoffed. No matter, he would see victory. He was sure of it.

He looked at the other numbers. The enemy fleet. It was virtually the same size as his host, but it also had to deal with the Offe’ei star base, which had been – wisely – stuffed with guns and armaments the years preceding the start of the war. A war that was mere months old, and now would see its first major battle.

He bit his beak tightly together.

«First Officer, ready the guns.»

«Affirmative, sir! Ready in 3…2…1… Ready! At your orders!»

Feather of Ebony nodded.

«Target their rear, the smallest ship closest to the star base’s plasma guns.»

The First Officer tapped some keys.

«Target ready in 3…2…1… Ready, sir!»

The fight was hard, but within hours half the enemy fleet were killed off. The damages to the Roccan fleets were minimal. Feather of Ebony was proud of his men. He would see to telling them. After the battle. A celebration was in order.

«Sir!» his First Officer bellowed.

He turned.

«Sir! The enemy is attempting emergency FTL! We have won!»

Feather of Ebony smiled weakly.

«We have won this battle, young man. We still need to win the war.»

He paused.

«Target them until they are gone. Then open the comms to Nogg, it is time to tell Chief Gahuda the good news.»

He furrowed his brow.

«And then, we take the fight to their home turf.»

 

[Nikolai]

Feathers of Ibony stood in deep thought. In front of him was a glorious view; the home system of the Republic of Havensky. The last months almost half of the Havensky systems were occupied, save their actual planets, as the troop ships were still not ready to be sent to attack.

The war was far from won, but it was going their way. After the major battle back in the Offe’ei system there had been a mop up with no major engagements. Truth to be told, it worried him. He knew the Havensky had at least two remaining shipyards and unknown number of surviving ships after the battle.

In front of him, the truth dawned. They had less ships than him, but only just. This would be a hard fight, but a fight he would likely win.

He smirked.

Orders were given, and the battle begun.

The battle was soon going the Roccan way. Feathers of Ibony sighed with relief.

Then the alarms began to blast.

«What is the matter, First Officer?» Feathers of Ebony said with a worried face.

«The hyperlane to the next Havensky system, sir. The one we have not attacked yet.»

The First Officer looked pained.

«Sir, it has opened. There is another fleet coming.»

He hesitated.

«Well, spit it out, son!»

The First Officer swallowed.

«It’s the same size as the one we are fighting. It’s intercepting us from behind.»

Feather of Ebony paled.

«That means we’re done for. We can’t fight double our numbers, and certainly not squeezed in between two hostile fleets.»

He collected himself.

«Prepare for emergency FTL. We’ve got to retreat.»

The First Officer nodded.

«It will take time. We will likely lose at least half our ships before we can get away.»

Feathers of Ebony nodded solemnly.

«Indeed. But the alternative is complete annihilation. Send the order. We are leaving. We will fight another day.»

 

[Nikolai]

Chief Gahuda had the need to scream. Both in relief and in anger. Months had gone by since the disaster deep inside Havensky space. The emergency FTL had sent half the fleet home to Nogg, the other half to the liberated systems on the other side of Havensky space.

In other words, the two could not combine forces. Not now. They had to meet at one of two points, divided by Havensky controlled space.

The good news was that the Havensky host had not pursued their enemy into Roccan space. They had contented themselves to retake what they had lost of their own systems, which were all by now controlled by them again.

The other good news was the Roccan economy was booming more than ever, and the fleets would not only be rebuilt, but be much larger and powerful, given time. They had three shipyards, two in the rebelling systems, one around Nogg proper. If the Havensky host did not appear within one year, perhaps even before, they could be contained.

Given they had not become larger than during the last encounter. Which was a slim hope, perhaps, but his advisors assured him they probably – probably – had not. The same advisors said his two fleets, three if the one ship armada that they owned from the gas planet, would be stronger than ever before one year. Retrofitted, upgraded and enlarged. The one consisting of only frigates, promsied to alone have a strength equaling almost both the fleets they had met around the Havensky capital. The other, being half corvettes, half frigates, would be half of that. Together, they would be perhaps – perhaps – twice the enemy as they knew them.

He sighed.

He needed time.

A knock.

“Come in!” Gahuda called.

Plume of Olive entered.

He had a worried look.

“What now?”

Chief Gahuda dreaded the answer.

“The Havensky host has entered the Offe’ei system. It is, thankfully only half their host. But it is estimated even our strong defense station there will fall soon.”

He paused.

“I know we have only one of the fleets here in Nogg. But we need to send it to intercept.”

He added, solemnly:

“And pray to whatever gods exist the Offe’ei system’s defenses have weakened them enough for our fleet to stop their progress, as well as their other fleet not joining the first.”

 

[Nikolai]

Chief Gahuda bit his beak. The Havensky fleet had been pushed back, only for his own fleet to have been forced to retreat as reports of the other fleet, bigger than the Roccan, approaching. They had avoided confrontation with mere hours to go.

Now he had enacted a bold plan. His fleets were now more than strong enough to counter the Havensky fleets.

But only if they were united and moved as one.

So he had ordered the fleet residing in rebel space – now, of course, Roccan space – to move towards the Benetnasch system, seizing the Beltegeuse, Unif and Carovon systems on the way. Thus, there would be a Roccan controlled tunnel of systems between the two parts of the Roccan Resistance. Thus, there would be less threat of another, costly, setback.

And he had moved his fleet of planetary invasion troops closer to the Benetnasch system too, ready to seize the planet there when opportunity showed itself.

He needed it to happen fast, though, for now the Havensky fleets had united and again taken Offe’ei. They were moving towards the Demivideau system, and from there Nogg would not be more than three jumps away. He needed to unite his fleets and disable the threat from the Havensky fleets.

He wiped his brow with his wing. This was a hard war, but he finally saw a way to – maybe – win.

A knock on his door.

“Come in.”

Plume of Olives entered.

He grinned, his eyes shining.

“I come bearing good news, sir.”

 

[Nikolai]

Chief Gahuda smiled.

It was marvelous news Plume of Olives had come with a year ago. There had been another uprising against the Havensky government. They, too, had offered themselves to the Roccan Resistance, joining the empire.

Benetnasch and its planet had joined Roccan, together with four other systems with no inhabited planets to their name. In one fell swoop, half the remaining Havensky systems, and one sixth of their remaining planets had joined him, willingly, without any direct Roccan intervention. The Havensky fleets had lost their contact with their home system. And soon thereafter, the Roccan fleets had met, and engaged the Havensky host in the Teydialara system.

They had won. The Havensky fleets had been decimated and forced to flee with emergency FTL. Moreover, the Roccan fleets had managed to retake the lost systems and going towards the Havensky system virtually unopposed.

The fleets were there, weakened, smaller. Beaten, again.

And now, the Havensky government had surrendered.

A total, unconditional surrender. All their planets taken, all their systems taken, their remaining fleet a mere shadow of itself and in no condition to fight on.

The Republic of Havensky was no more. All of its star systems, all of its planets – under Roccan governance.

They had won.

Sure, there were problems to be solved. An angry populace on several planets to start with. The conquered were angry. Disappointed. And there were a clear deficit in food, a deficit he had ordered solved by selling some surplus alloys to finance buying food from the galactic market.

And sure, the Panurian Raiders were still a potent force on his borders, one which only tribute could withhold.

Sure, the debt collectors from the MSI had returned and demanded their tribute. And he had paid.

But the Roccan Resistance had won, and even at the end of the war enlarged the navy with another fleet of state of the art ships. And his researchers had developed an even mightier ship at the end of the war, one which was not tried in combat yet, but which proved promising. The destroyer.

Now he had a new neighbor to contend with. Th Polity of Fexklansiga. Reptilians. They were wary of the Roccan. But he wanted their trust. He had sent an ambassador. Hopefully they could be turned into friends.

Yes, things were good for the Roccan Resistance. The war was over. It was time to rebuild.

 

[Nikolai]

Commissary-General Zosira K’Tun could hardly believe it. The star date was the first day of Ma’ay, 2250. The Roccan Resistance had existed as a space faring entity for fifty years. It was powerful now that their closest neighbor was part of her, and her second closest neighbor was a friendly face in the galaxy.

But that was not what he could not believe. He was an alien to this world, having been expelled for certain unfortunate incidents involving an exploding lab on his home world soon fourty years ago. He had approached the Roccan Resistance and got a home there, immidiately been promoted to the Council as chief scientist.

He had been believed in. In a way he had never experienced in his own native world. He had proven himself. He had, when Chief Gahuda died at the age of 82 mere months ago, been suggested as the new Chief. The new Commisary-General. Him, an alien. The Roccan had proven they belived in merit, above all else.

He had even been allowed to place his trust as the new head of reseach to Bodden Lullwer, an alien of the species once ruling the Havensky. Heavens, it was not that long ago they were enemies. But Lullwer had proven himself and merit spoke for itself in the Roccan Resistance.

Zosira looked at the tabled in front of him. So much to catch up on. Gahuda’s last orders had been to make friends with the Polity of Fexklansiga. It has worked. Zosira approved of the closer relations. No need for war when one could work peacefully with one another. Non-aggression pact and an embassy.

Excellent.

And now, he had decide on the funeral of Chief Gahuda. It was clear to him there were only one proper way to do it. Gahuda was beloved. Loved by all. The bird who made Roccan great. Suggestions were to make the funeral private, or small. No, the funeral would let the masses mourn, as was only proper. It would make people come together, all species. It would make the public happy, and united.

Now, for his own plans as Commissary-General. A scientific feat. That was his first order. The Roccan Resistance would make it a priority to make the pre-sapient species of her world part of the galaxy. First out was the Pelx-Cradonian, an avian species of Lightbouy. 3 billion souls, which would by the prime technology available become sapient and a part of the bright future of the galaxy.

He was sure it would not be a streamlined road, but it was the right road. The proper road. The road to prosperity for all species under Roccan control.

 

[Nikolai]

Comissary-General Zosira K’Tun closed his eye and sighed in satisfaction.

The last five years – his first as Comissary-General, and hopefully a fewe of many – had seen tremendous success.

In short, the Roccan Resistance was more than doubled in size. Not because they had colonized. Not because of war. But because of diplomacy.

First, he had guaranteed the independence of the Fexklansiga. They, knowing how weak they were, had gladly accepted it.

As had they when offered a commercial pact, not to mention the research agreement offered shortly after. In fact, the Fexklansiga had been so easy to butter up it was a tale of wonders.

But the next step? It had surprised him. Greatly. He had been sitting with matters of state when his Aide interrupted a most important meeting. He had to confess he was not pleased at the time. He had expressly forbidden any interruptions.

But, of course, he soon calmed.

For the Polity of Fexklansiga had come with an offer he could not refuse. The total submission of their entire realm as vassals to the Roccan.

Zosira’s head had spun at that juncture in time.

The papers were signed, quickly, of course. His star had risen immensely in Roccan society. His reelection was all but assured.

And today, he had signed another order of great importance: The construction of a habitat central complex close to Lightbuoy, in previous Havensky space. The Havensky’s previous rulers were extatic. As was their populace. The approval ratings in the conquered space had shot through the roof.

Zosira nodded to himself.

Winning over the conquered with gifts, construction, improved economy and even leadership posts for those who proved themselves? It certainly worked.

 

[Nikolai]

Comissary-General Zohira K’Tun sighed.

This was not a road he wanted. While he did see the merit in securing their borders, the Roccan Resistance should be better than this, he told himself.

The closer ties to the Independent Tal’Akkuran Republic, who had turned out to be old slaves of the old nemesis of the Roccan, sharing their fate, but not their renewed strength? Good. He would make sure they were secure, even now that the Zrian were surrounding them and even though the Zrian was to eying them. As far as he could determine policy, and he knew he was not sole arbirator of that, as recent events had show, he would protect them.

And the habitat in previous Havensky space? Colonization was underway and that was the Roccan way. Peaceful, but not pacifist, ready to do what needed to be done. He could subscribe to that.

But this?

The Enlightened Kingdom om Jumla was weak. They should have been protected. Perhaps become friends. Like the Fexklansiga had been, as a vassal, but even so as a friendly, allied state if so. Like the Zrian Confederation, perhaps. A trading parter, research parter, perhaps one day an ally.

Perhaps, as was Zohira’s dream, a federation of allied states.

But no. The kingdom had been belligerent, threatening even. Weaker, yes. But not in fierceness. They wanted nothing to do with the Roccan Resistance.

And now parts of his own government, large parts actually, together with a sizeable part of the electorate, was calling for war. There were rumors of raiders on the other side of the kingdom, raiders like the Panurians close to the Roccan homeworld, Nogg.

Some argued for invasion of Jumla before they fell to the raiders, weak as they were. Protection, under the guise of imperialism. Some argued for securing the kingdom so that the Roccan could keep a better eye on the rumored raiders.

He snorted.

Imperialism. Warmongering. He wished he could have nothing to do with it. But he knew he was defeated. The people spoke. The rest of the government spoke. War it was.

He just prayed it would be so easy and quick as the warmongerers proclaimed it would be. And that as few as possible would die. Some days he wanted nothing but becoming a mere scientist again. The simplicity of science. Knowledge and research. But he knew he was not merely a scientist these days. He was a politician, whether he wanted it or not.

He did not believe in gods, but if they existed, he prayed he would end his rule and life not tainted more than absolutely necessary. That he kept his soul clean, whatever a soul was in the big picture of things. He prayed his rule would leave the galaxy and Roccan at a better place.

With that, he signed the order to invade the Enlightened Kingdom of Jumla.

 

[Nikolai]

Comissary-General Zohira K’Tun yawned.

It had been a long night. The war was over, finally. He felt this war was a betrayal of what the Roccan stood for. Perhaps he was naïve.

He felt like being naïve.

To a point.

He looked at the communications in front of him. A surrender declaration. He quickly signed an excecutive order to give the new subjects of his the best terms possible under the circumstances. He signed an order for the minister in question to find promising new leaders among the beaten. Perhaps they could be made into full members before long, like the Havensky.

He hoped, hoped oh so hard.

He hesitated.

And then signed an order for the main fleet of the Roccan to be stationed in the Dontaur system to guard against their latest enemy.

Or potential enemy, he should say.

The Knatzan Void Riders.

He shook his head. Barbarians. Raiders of the worst sort. Pirates. A menace to the civilized world.

And immensely powerful, just like the Panurian Raiders, so close to home. Some day, he vowed, they would be set right. Pacified.

But not today.

Today, however, would mark a new beginning for the relationship between the Polity of Fexklansiga and the Roccan Resistance. Today, he signed the treaty to integrate the Polity into the greater Roccan realm. United, one realm, one destiny.

He looked up as a knock was on the door and the minister of war strode in.

“What now, at this late hour?”

The minister smiled weakly.

“Our allies the Zrian Confederation has a minor rebellion happening. They call us into war with the M’tok Citizen Commonwealth as of tonight.”

He added,

“It seems sleep is not a gift we get today.”

 

[Nikolai]

“Sir!”

Comissary-General Zohira K’Tun’s aide rushed in, unannounced.

Zohira frowned.

“What is the matter, Froth? I’m in the middle of an important call with the minister of defence.”

Suddenly all screens lit up with the image of a scowling alien Zohira had never seen the likes of before.

“Oh. I see.”

He cocked his head.

“To whom do I owe the pleasure? I see you’ve taken control over our networks, so it must be important.”

The alien hissed.

“Pitiful creature. Abomination. Pay your betters some respect!”

Zohira sighed.

“I thought I were. Well, then. Sir. Or madam. Whatever the gentleperson prefers. This is clearly important. I am all ears.”

The alien hissed louder.

“Creature. Know we roamed the stars for eaons before your hapless species mastered space flight. You are closing in on our space. Don’t. We’ll crush you like the pitiful ants you are.”

Zohira nodded.

“I see. Well, I am sure we can come to an arrangement. If I were only to know whom exactly I am speaking to...”

The alien scowled.

“No arrangement. No trade. No contact. If you come here, only death awaits. We are the Sejetharian Vestige, your doom if you approach us. In any way.”

Zohira smiled weakly.

“Noted. We will let you be. Now, if you could give me back control over my holonet, I have some work to be done.”

He added:

“Work that in no perceivable way will harm you. We get it. No trade. No contact. Now, this here is certainly contact, so I’ll let you disconnect the receiver, so to speak, now.”

He smiled broader.

“Have a wonderful day, representative of the Sejetharian Vestige. We will note your generous warning with all due diligence.”

The alien growled.

“So be it. You have been warned.”

 

[Nikolai]

Comissary-General Zohira K’Tun looked at hs latest intelligence brief.

“Good.” He thought to himself, while sipping at his tea.

The small war the Zrian space war won. Not a surprise, seeing as the rebels were few and weak, but still, it meant no more bloodshed.

He sighed.

He wished the Zrian had consulted with him before declaring war. There were parties in the M’tok Citizen Commonwalth that had wanted a peaceful resolution to the conflict. He was sure if given time, those elements could have succeeded.

Oh well, it was what it was. But the Zrian was a difficult ally. All too eager to levy Roccan help, none to eager to pursue closer cooperation in a federation, like Zohira wished.

He smiled.

Not so with the Polity of Fexklansiga. In fact, today they would be completely incorporated into the Roccan Resistance as full members and citizens, with all that entailed.

It entailed a doubling of the Roccan’s size, of course. But also responsibilities he would honor, like elevating the Fexklansiga’s population to Roccan leadership. Both mid level and higher level.

He did worry a little about the Havoll Alliance, though. They claimed some of the border territory and threatened to invade to secure their claims. He would, of course, not allow it. But he had no fleets close by, for now.

He hoped for a peaceful resolution to the simmering conflict.

Meanwhile, he was about to sign the start of the complete integration of the Enlightened Kingdom of Jumla into Roccan statehood. With that, the Roccan would stand united, and he could start in earnest the building of defences in the galactic north to ward against the Knatzan Void Riders.

He shuddered.

They were powerful for a disunited gang of pirates. A threat, just like their brethren in the Panunian Raiders closer to home.

But for now, peace reigned in the Roccan Resistance, and no trouble was in the horizon, save the issue with the Havoll.

He startled.

Read the latest missive again.

And again.

“Oh, no.” He muttered.

“They didn’t...”

His face got bleak.

He hit the button of the intercom, connecting to the defence secratary.

But it was too late.

The holoscreen lit up, a scowling Sejetharian face showing.

“Filthy parasite! You were warned. You have encroached upon our space for the last time! Withdraw immidiately, or we will cleanse the stain upon the universe that is your worthless species.”

Zohoria swalled.

“Sir, this is a mistake. I forbid the Roccan colonization crew to colonize the Helam system. It is, and will be, neutral space, as you demanded. I am sincerely sorry, and we will withdraw this very minute. I will order it as soon as we are finished speaking.”

Silence.

The Sejetharian alien nodded.

“See to it. And don’t make the mistake again. Or else...”

The holoscreen turned itself off.

Zohira cursed.

He hit the intercom.

“Froth, tell the colonizer crew to withdraw from Helam this very minute, and send their leader as far away from the system as you possibly can, demoted to a private. I don’t want to see him, hear his name or have anyone even enter the system again. Ever. It is to be forbidden territory until further notice.”

He reached for his cup of tea, cold by this point. His hands were trembling.

 

[Nikolai]

Comissary-General Zohira K’Tun grinned from ear to ear.

Finally, a real, tangible diplomatic success. The Roccan Resistance was a major power in the known galaxy, for sure. But they knew merely a small part of the galaxy, large as it was. So much was unknown, uncharted territory.

Until today.

Today, the Roccan would rise to the occation and spearhead the greatest diplomatic boon in generations.

Today, the Roccan would be founding member of the Galactic Community. Together, the galaxy would unite in diplomacy and – hopefully – cooperation.

Today, the galaxy would take the first steps to uniting behind a common idea. Or ideas. There were many potential issues to cooperate for. Interstellar trade. Binding treaties to improve the lives of the galactic citizens. Perhaps, one day, true peace between species.

He stopped himself.

Laughed of his own naïveté showing its true face again.

Peace. True peace. Oh, he knew that was more than a lofty goal. It was an impossibility.

But to strive for the impossible? Work towards it, however futile? Perhaps it could end in a better galaxy after all.

He smiled weakly of his own, oh so hopeless, naïve thoughts.

“A man can dream” he muttered to himself.

He looked at the intelligence brief in front of him.

Minamar Specialized Industries.

The tormentor of the Roccan, and so many other species, for so long. If peace were to be even the faintest possibility, they needed to go. Perhaps not today they would, but in the end.

The problem was if the Minamar were to be brought low, the Roccan needed to go through other species. Through so far uncharted territory. It was a question of time, for sure. But also of morals. If the species in between were hostile, sure, they could arguably be seen as a valid target. To bring peace, violence might need to be used. But if not?

He sighed.

How far from his idealistic youth he had come. Still, his first loyalty and priority was to the Roccan Resistance.