“Another diplomatic case? I’ve been out for a whole month and that’s all you can get me?”

  Admiral Tritarion looks rather unamused at my indignation. Expeditionary Captains usually don’t go this long without a mission. Especially when the last one was successful and mostly damage free. Hard to hide behind any decorum.

  “It is not a diplomatic mission. You will simply be assisting another Expeditionary Captain with a task they have been having difficulties with.”

  “So I'm the second banana in his diplomatic mission? Great. That makes me feel so much better.”

  “What is a… nevermind. This is the mission you are assigned. You can take it or file a complaint. The choice is yours.”

  Complaints go to my superior officer. Which is him. Rat bastard.

  “Fine. What is it about this time? More lifelong wars you need me to stop singlehandedly?’

  “Nothing so dramatic. Just need to help with negotiating the, uh, well…”

  “Spit it out. Don’t have all day.”

  “The Interstellar Protectorate border.”

  “Oh. Well you should have opened with that. Send the info and we will be there as soon as possible.”

  The Admiral is surprised by my sudden cooperation. Good. Now he won’t mind if I just press the hang up button.

  “Alright, you heard the boss. Let’s get ready for a jump. I want to be ready for that assist as soon as possible.”

  Crew is looking just as confused, should have figured.

  “Come on people. We’re burning starlight.”

  “Captain, if I may.” Inanna is slowing us down of all people? “Why are you so excited about the Interstellar Protectorate?”

  “I am merely invested in helping another Expeditionary Captain in our combined service for a better tomorrow. You know I haven't actually met another Captain yet.”

  The best lies are half true. This would be my first time with another Captain. Wonder if they are as constantly terrified as I am.

  “I could accept that answer if it were anyone else, Captain. However, you have never shown that kind of enthusiasm before. Is there something you aren’t telling us?”

  “Please, Inanna, would I lie to any of you?”

  Not even Fairy is falling for that one. Am I losing my touch?

  “Look, guys, why does it matter? We got a shiny new assignment. Let's focus on what's important. Helping our fellow-”

  “He wants the cigars.”

  Raze you correct bastard.

  “Cigars?”

  “Trubans. Best in all the galaxy. Can’t get them anywhere in Union space cause of the embargoes. Personally think it all smells like crap but warm bloods like the good Captain would sell an adrenal gland for em.”

  Of all the people to look to for wisdom, they pick Fairy.

  “Uh, well, I don’t really smoke. Sugar though, yeah. She’d kill any one of you for something that good.”

  “I rest my case. Well Captain black lung, anything you want to tell us?”

  “I am not taking us to the Protectorate just for cigars… They also have very good Space lamb.”

  “It’s called Grutagh.”

  “It's space lamb. And happens to pair very well with a fine cigar.”

  “Unbelievable Captain. All this from some burning plants. And in front of Alcea, no less.”

  Right, she’s a plant, too. Do I need to apologize for that or is this like how most people eat mammals and I don’t really care?

  “W-well, I like Grutagh, too. So, maybe it wouldn’t be all that bad?”

  Good. She doesn’t care. Suppose that would have come up by now with how many mushrooms Joan eats.

  “We don’t get a choice either way. Orders are orders. So stop the trial and get to work.”

  This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Rather begrudgingly everyone goes back to their station. Save Fairy, who looks at me for wisdom.

  “Why are we not friends with the Interstellar Protectorate? Is this another war?”

  “More of a Cold War. Oh right, you don't have that concept on your planet yet. Think fighting by not fighting. Not directly anyway."

  “Why would you do that?”

  “Because fighting directly would be too costly. So we fight by not fighting. Making sure the other side knows how powerful we are by constantly holding back. This make sense?”

  Yeah, I thought not. Fairy looks like she’s staring at an important test she didn’t study for.

  “It’s not really that important. Fact is we just don’t care for each other.”

  “Why”

  “Request: Yes. For what purpose does the Galactic Union and Interstellar Protectorate quarrel?”

  “You don’t know? I’d have thought it be in all those files you took.”

  “Acknowledgment: Indeed, the relevant files are available to me. What still perplexes me is why anyone would choose such an inefficient method to wage conflict. I estimate the Union Navy to be approximately 240% larger than the estimated Protectorate forces. Victory seems assured.”

  “Maybe if they were the only ones we had to worry about.”

  “Inquiry: The records indicate no other significant threats in this region.”

  “Sure. And how many insignificant threats does it have?”

  “Analyzing: Approximately 108.”

  “Right. And if the majority of our forces in this region were destroyed by, say, a large-scale war, how many of those minor threats would now become a moderate or even major threat?”

  “Analyzing: I am beginning to understand the predicament.”

  Took him long enough. For a hyper intelligent walking computer Deed is very bad at seeing the big picture. For every race the Union has, there's around ten who want us gone. Galaxy is a big place after all. Not everyone is friendly.

  “Inquiry: Does the Interstellor Protector not possess the same issue?”

  “And that is why it’s a cold war. If either of us commit, we both lose. So instead we have to let this be a battle of economies and influence. Don’t think I have to tell you we are winning.”

  “Observation: Based on all available data that appears to be correct. However, there does not appear to be any specified reason for hostility.”

  “It’s complicated. You wouldn’t understand.”

  “Rebuttle: I see no reason why I would be unable to.”

  “Really now? Tell me, how does your species handle commerce?”

  “Acknowledgement: We have no need for commerce.”

  “Exactly. That’s why you wouldn’t get it.”

  “Request: Please enlighten me.”

  “I… am not qualified for this. Inanna, you want to try?”

  Inanna pulls out a notebook the size of a small child. She was waiting for this moment.

  “So the history of the Interstellar Protectorate actually dates back around 1,672 years ago. At the time the Protectorate, then called the Alpha Star Pen-Alliance was merely a-”

  “Skim ahead to the relevant parts, Inanna. We haven’t got another sixteen hundred years.”

  She’s thumbing through a couple hundred pages a second now. Got it color coded and everything.

  “Fifty years ago-”

  Space Jesus bleeding out from a prison shiv, we skipped ahead that far?

  “-trade negotiations between the Union and Protectorate fell apart. They were worried we would undersell most of their major manufacturing industries. Destabilizing numerous important sectors with cheap imports."

  “Inquiry: Does the Galactic Union not stress the importance of self sustainability?”

  “We do. The Protectorate does not.”

  “Inquiry: Elaboration is required.”

  “There are over three thousand members of the Interstellar Protectorate and many satellite states. However, the grand majority of political, economic and military power is held by less than one hundred of those races. Concentrated even further to about ten of those.”

  “Inquiry: In what way is this different from the Galactic Union and its Hierarchical system of government?”

  “The Union does have different levels each with a different amount of political power. But we earn our rights to those levels through accomplishments and deeds. And all on each level are treated as equals to their peers. The Phibians and Racker are very different species with entirely different histories and specialization. Yet to the Union we are the same. Our votes may be worth more than, say, Humans on an individual bases. Still, Lesser Races can still equal and override the vote of a Major Race if enough of them agree on a point. So really each level has the same amount of power as the one above and below it. In the Protectorate, everyone is theoretically an equal in their Republic. From the smallest colonies just starting out to established mini empires thousands of years in the making. In practice, each race has a different amount of votes depending on how much they contribute to the Protectorate as a whole. Every race is guaranteed one vote and no more. The most powerful have hundreds or even thousands of vote power. If the ten strongest races agreed on something the entire rest of the Protectorate would not be able to vote against them. Does that make more sense?”

  “Acknowledgment: I am beginning to understand. I do request further elaboration on how Union goods would destabilize such a system.”

  “How you think those rich bastards got so rich?” Raze seems angrier than usual. “The most powerful Races make sure to keep the little guys down. Make them totally dependent on them for everything from food to arms. They jack up the prices and use force if you complain. They’re scared the Union would cut into their share margins. If I got my claws on them that wouldn’t be the only thing getting a good cutting.”

  “Acknowledgement: This is a system of finances referred to as Capitalism. I was unaware such a system was illegal in Union space.”

  “It ain’t. Just the kind they practice. Where making a shiny copper at the cost of lives of our most vulnerable is seen as a fair trade.”

  I didn’t know a reptile could have raised blood pressure. Think a vein is about to pop on Raze’s head.

  “Alright, enough history for today. We got to go.”

  “Inquiry: One final question if I may. Did they have this form of Capitalism on your home planet Captain Tom?”

  “We did, long time ago.”

  “Inquiry: What happened to it?”

  “No idea. Legends say they all were tired of being stifled by rules and regulation and flew away to the freedom of the stars.”

  “Inquiry: Do you believe such legends?”

  “I like to think that’s what happened, yes. Mostly because I want to see them again one day. See if they really did make that paradise they promised. I’ve got 20 credits on No..”