Lafier looked bereft of words.
“Well, if Your Excellency says so, then let’s take it as true,” he said, not looking particularly impressed. “Setting that aside, let’s focus on the future. If the landworld administration has made up their minds — which, to be quite honest, it didn’t even occur to me that they might not have — but either way, what do we do from here?”
“I think our first step is to tell them this isn’t the fait accompli they want it to be.”
“It’s true that this ship’s scars are so slight as to not warrant retribution.”
“Exactly. And I don’t think Martinh has the firepower to dish out damage serious enough to ever warrant any retribution.” Jint kept the word unfortunately to himself. “Not that I know anything about the Ma’tye 12th Division’s firepower, obviously.”
“If they’re furnished with specialized equipment, then it’s a different story, but as it stands, I don’t believe they have the ability to shoot ships out of orbit, either.”
“In that case, I’ll go talk to them. But I want to go with the minimum possible number of people. The antimatter fuel factory construction team’s scheduled to arrive shortly, but I’ll put this here.”
“Of course.”
“But I can come with you, can’t I?” asked Lafier.
“Sure. ’Cause this time, I’m probably not leaving the ship anyway.”
“I wouldn’t let you. Nothing good ever happens when you touch down on a landworld.”
“I came back safe and sound from my visit to Delktu, didn’t I?”
“You spent all of your time there tormenting your own liver,” she pointed out.
After a while, Yestesh finished his briefing and exited the conference room. Another job was apparently waiting for him. Jint remained there, gazing at the map of Martin. Would the day he could once again walk the land of fantastical lifeforms ever come?
“Jint,” Lafier called from behind.
“What?”
“I must apologize to you.”
“You mean for saying it’d be better for us if the planet was under military occupation?” he said, looking back at her.
“Right,” Lafier nodded. “It was thoughtless of me. I know this landworld was your home, but sometimes I forget.”
“I do, too,” Jint smiled. “But it is my home, nonetheless. I don’t want a ground war to happen here. Of course, a ground war would be the pits anywhere else, too.”
Space battles were different. The vast majority of people in ship-on-ship combat were soldiers, and those that weren’t were there to serve. Sure, levels of enthusiasm varied between them, and some may have entered the army thinking there would never actually be a war, but at the end of the day, space battles were waged between those who resolved to fight. Ground battles, however, inevitably involved innocent civilians.
“Yes, naturally. I don’t like ground wars, either. Just the thought of enemies and allies fighting while breathing the same air makes me shudder.”
Jint had a feeling Lafier disliked ground wars for very different reasons, but he decided not to pursue it.
“But for argument’s sake, what would you do if they were under an occupation?” she asked.
“That’s a tough nut to crack,” he replied. “If they’re still under occupation, we can’t exactly choose to leave them be. But then that’d lead to a ground war on my home planet.”
“What’s your ultimate goal for your star fief?”
“That’s easy. I wanna just forget about the wider galaxy and live a peaceful life on my landworld. So, if we don’t attack the space-bound facilities of the Empire, I don’t need to worry myself about trading, either.”
“What a waste. By not engaging in commerce, you’re throwing away ninety percent of your potential wealth.”
“And be stinking rich with just ten percent. Besides, having loads of money doesn’t mean a thing if you’ve got no way to spend it.” Jint snapped his fingers, having remembered something. “Oh yeah, I’ve gotta repay my debt to the House of Clybh. But there’s no rush, right?”
“Not in my eyes,” said Lafier. “The best client for a money lender is one who pays their interest and borrows for a long time.”
“Good.” Jint’s eyes returned to the map. “Why’s planar space navigation gotta exist, anyway? If the speed of light were the absolute limit, then I and the people of my planet wouldn’t have had to suffer so.”
Lafier chuckled. “My father often makes the same sort of remarks.”
“His Highness the King of Clybh? But why? If it weren’t for planar space navigation, the Empire couldn’t keep going.”
“If there were no planar space navigation, then we wouldn’t have needed to build the Empire. He claims we would still be roaming the galaxy like our ancestors.”
“Is that a more blissful existence?”
“My father seems to find the idea charming enough. It’s like he was born too late.”
“Born too late, huh? I think the same could be said for the people of my home. But while Fïac Lartr Clybr is pining for the distant past, the Martinese are pining for an age all of the adults experienced directly. That’s why they may be super fixated on it.”
“And you mean to turn back the clock for them?”
“That’s not in the cards. There’s no way we could ever return to total isolation. But we can give them that illusion. If we don’t trade with other systems, the people won’t ever lay eyes on products from other territory-nations, and if we block information, then they can live without the fear that comes with the active awareness of being a tiny corner of a vast interstellar power.”
“Would that bring your landworld citizens true happiness? Let me assure you my father’s nostalgia for a bygone age is a quirk of his own. I, for one, don’t believe for a second that the Space Roving Age was better, and most Abhs don’t, either.”
“It’s not at all a rare opinion among my landworld citizens, though.”
“But if they wish to wrap themselves in a happy fiction, then everyone must constantly make sure reality never pokes a hole in the veil.”
“I know.
