Ando
The Ryn and Aqualish had managed to work together without too much trouble, though it was obvious that many of the natives felt the Ryn's inability to breath water somehow made them less . . . well, just
less. The Ryn didn't seem to mind too much, though; they were probably glad that the Aqualish at least had a
reason for feeling the way they did. It's good to be belittled because one doesn't have gills, instead of just being belittled.
Elder Ruto had managed―with help from the Eastern delegation―to obtain a formal consent from the Ando government that was wordy and indistinct enough to allow for the issue of Dac sovereignty to be addressed at a later date.
Already a small force was grouping up around Ando to assist with the development of the planned trade route that would stretch from Teth to an as-yet-undetermined world in the West. The first groups had already been dispatched to the vast stretch of territory separating Ando from the West, their orders to more accurately map and tag the major spatial phenomena that existed in the broad corridor that would eventually accommodate the Outer Rim Trade Route, or whatever name it would eventually be given.
The already-strained resources of the Cooperative and the East were making any significant work on the trade route almost impossible, but the East had petitioned for additional aide from the Azguard and had dispatched a delegation to the West to try to round up some help from them. With any luck, the ships and manpower would be on-hand shortly.
The Ryn workers continued to trudge on, building settlements when they had the equipment, and building equipment when they didn't. The Ryn Fleet was quickly becoming a planet-scale workshop, capable of mining, refining, processing, and manufacturing. With swarms of construction droids originally designed for space construction, the Ryn even possessed a limited starship construction capacity, which was being put to good use in constructing more factory ships.
Of greatest import, however, were the construction projects begun and now completed by the Aqualish themselves. Mon Calamari and Quarren were being shipped over by the tens of thousands, many of them having jobs waiting for them in the form of newly opened mines and newly constructed processing plants. In the oceans of Ando, the lost children of Dac had found a world not altogether unlike their abandoned home, and despite the traditional view of the Quarren as a violent and warlike race, they seemed to hold a sort of reverence for these displaced souls born of a common struggle decades in the making, when worlds like Ando and Mon Calamari had been subjugated and repressed under the first Empire's doctrine of fear.
Yes, the Coalition would live on, because now more than ever its people understood that further loss was no longer an option. The broken and scattered fragments of the Coalition would stand together, and in time would be reforged.
* * *
Cerea orbit
Erek Joron had requested to lead the Eastern delegation to the West. A very proper man who had spent his life in political and diplomatic circles, his recent and extensive involvement with the Ryn fleet near and at Teth had caused him to reevaluate many of his long-standing beliefs and priorities. It was time to piece this Coalition together, and Erek was determined to be a part of the work. The Eastern vessels had not been granted clearance to land due to Cerea's strict pollution-control laws, but the Cerean government had dispatched a delegation of their own to meet the Easterners in orbit. The whole thing felt very unusual, but Erek had consigned himself to sit and wait for their arrival.
Erek was a little confused when a military-style transport landed in the docking bay, a little more confused when a bald, pale-skinned man wearing a captain's rank bar exited the transport with half a dozen officers in tow. He stopped before Erek and offered a crisp salute. “Captain Zive Brintt, Western Fleet.”
Erek stepped forward, offering his hand. “Ambassador Erek Joron of Teth.” He paused for a moment, eying the man. “You're Rattataki, correct?”
The man looked a little put off by the question, but maintained his military stature nonetheless. “Is that a problem?”
Erek gasped slightly, offering a nervous smile. “No, no. Not at all.” He paused for a few seconds, continuing to eye the man, though now considerably more apprehensive. “Um, is there something I can do for you, Captain?”
The captain gave a rather unpleasant smile, looking past Erek at the men and women behind him. “I understand you need ships.”
It wasn't a question. “Uhh, please, please―” He gestured toward the airlock leading further into the vessel “―let's continue this in a more comfortable setting, shall we?”
“I have been appraised of the situation,” The Rattataki said bitterly, turning around and walking back toward his shuttle.
“Oh, really? Well, might I ask―” A silver ASP droid stepped out from the transport, waving oddly at both the captain and the ambassador. “Umm, excuse me?”
The captain stopped just before rounding the corner and reentering his shuttle. “The Cooperative's Overseer sent his puppet ahead to begin preparations. I have been assigned to the Western task force that has been assembled for this most honorable task.”
He was still sounding rather bitter, and Erek was worried that he might have another Athan on his hands.
Only this one might kill me. The captain rounded the corner, and Erek was left facing the approaching droid, which managed to convey a general sense of cheer despite its lack of a face.
“Greetings, I am Beta, representative of the Cooperative and servant of its Overseer.” Erek shook the droid's outstretched hand, confusion evident on his face.
“You are the Overseer?” Erek had read reports on the Cooperative's resident super-droid, but he was fairly certain that it was still in Cooperative space.
“No, not at the moment. The Overseer is coordinating relief resources in the Cooperative at the moment, and he has decided that maintaining a holonet link with me would be unnecessary and wasteful.” The droid's voice lowered slowly, and it gave the impression of glancing about furtively. “This is my first mission without direct contact with the Overseer.”
Erek beckoned the droid into the vessel, turning away as the military shuttle lifted off and departed. They walked the long halls of the vessel, apparently making their way to the bridge. “Tell me: what have you been discussing with the West?”
“The West's primary commitment is unification with the rest of the Coalition. To that end they have supplied considerable resources in the form of vessels―both military and commercial―for the cause of establishing this trade route―”
“Which you've also discussed with them?”
“Of course,” Beta replied, still cheery. “Captain Brintt will transmit more specific data shortly, but the West is committing itself to a substantial segment of the gap between the Mestra Asteroid Field and Ando. They are refusing to discuss further aide to Coalition refugees until such a time as that aide can be guaranteed safe and speedy passage to the East.”
“But they are committed?”
Beta nodded. “The West has been largely isolated for a considerable time, but I get the sense that the benefits of greater Coalition integration have come to outweigh the new threats it will entail. I believe that the Imperial attack on the Cren has startled them significantly, and they recognize that they deserve a greater presence in galactic affairs.”
They boarded a turbolift, and Erik turned an inquisitive eye on the droid. “Why were you sent here?”
The droid returned the stare blankly. “Speed is of the essence. The Overseer saw an opportunity to increase efficiency, and he took it.” The droid's posture shifted significantly, and Erik understood that it was expressing a more casual state. “The Coalition can no longer afford to stand divided. We must all work together if we hope to persist beyond the threats that challenge us at every turn. The Cooperative was founded upon the principles of a united Coalition, and while the Onyxian Crisis has forced a change in priorities, its commitment to the greater Coalition remains as it has always been. We will all succeed together, because only together do we possess the strength to overcome. The future belongs to us all, and we must all grasp for it.”
Erik nodded, stepping out of the opened turbolift and continuing through the ship. “There are some in the East who have begun to believe that the Cooperative is seeking to exert its own agenda upon all the Coalition. The power your Ryn Nation has instilled in the East's extensive refugee populations has begun to concern many Eastern leaders.”
“Understand this: the Cooperative will not be stopped. We will not be stopped because those we serve will not allow us to stop. You cannot ignore the cries of the people, or they will turn their cries to someone else.”
Erik's brow furrowed as he considered the droid's works. “That sounds danger―”
“Do you know the difference between the Cooperative and the East, ambassador? The Dragon border. The Cooperative has come to acknowledge that we cannot survive without expanding, without reaching out our hands in friendship to all those who will take it. The East, on the other hand, has come to realize that they will be consumed by the ravages of the Dragon Empire, if they do not shore up their defenses and stave off its expansion. We have no foes knocking at our door. Not yet, at least.
“Do all you can to save the galaxy, ambassador; hope and pray that―along with others like you―it will be enough.”
* * *
Squib Momship Thrifty, Skor II orbit
The negotiations had gone on for a few days now, and Athan had finally talked the king into allowing Juri to serve as a translator. In concept, the deal was simple:
1.Skor II would join the Coalition and be granted major contracts with the East, West, and the Cooperative for the removal and processing of trash.
2.The Squib would not sell refurbished military-grade equipment to any members not allied with the Coalition.
3.The Squib would make available to the Coalition their extensive maps of the Outer Rim, including often-used Squib routes through largely unmapped space.
The problem, in concept, was becoming clearer with the help of Juri translating. Most Squib vessels were almost totally unarmed, leaving Squib captains to use a combination of crafty tractor beam technicians and outright cowardice to survive hostile interactions. While Squib had been known to fight off enemy vessels with the careful placement of tractor-propelled space debris, it was usually their closely guarded maps that allowed them to escape from sticky situations. As such, that information was one of the few non-tangible quantities that the Squib truly prized, and it represented the sum of the Squibs advantage over their generational enemies, the Ugor.
And there was the other problem. The Squib had been battling the Ugor for centuries, fighting over salvage rights and loose space trash at every opportunity. The Squib considered taking the Coalition's offer and hiding behind its defense fleets to be akin to giving up, and if there was one thing a Squib absolutely refused to do, it was to surrender to a Ugor.
King Ebareebaveebeedee had drawn a line in the proverbial sand, one which he seemed unwilling to cross. Talks had ground to a standstill. Athan was very annoyed. “We can offer you protection from any threat the Ugor could possibly pose to you, but we
must have your star charts. We have an opportunity to forge the most significant trade route in a thousand years, but we can only do it together. There is a place for you in the Coalition, but you must abandon this senseless feud with an alien race . . . sixty-
thousand light-years away! This is ridiculous; the Coalition needs you. We'll be grasping in the dark . . . for the sake of democracy, do this!”
The king muttered indecipherably in his native tongue, and Juri looked up at Athan apprehensively. “He says that democracy died with the fall of the Old Republic.”
Athan sighed, hanging his head in disappointment. “What do you want from me?”
Juri translated once more: “An even trade. You will get our star charts, when you deal with the Ugor.”
Athan sighed again, wiping his face with his hand. “What does that mean?”
“He said deal with them!” Juri shouted, flailing his arms. “What do you think it means?!”
The Ryn swallowed hard. This was not what he had signed up for. His heart was pounding in his chest, his palms were sweaty, his mind was numb. “I need to speak with my superiors.” Athan bowed respectfully and left the king's chamber, a sense of shame accompanying every footstep. The Coalition was gearing up for a massive project, and its fundamental building block was refusing to present itself.
What are we going to do now?
