Corfu, Dry-dock A, "meeting" room 1 “Let me correct one point. This did not begin with the Outcasts, nor will it ever. Skirmishes occur, yes, but they were never the casus belli.”
He tapped a few commands into the datapad; archived reports flickered to life.
“The Corsairs have always been more aggrieved by Bounty Hunters than anyone else. One day they staged a false-flag incident, claiming an Elder’s son had been killed by a Hunter. They didn’t even wait for an answer—because they knew we’d demand proof—and they stormed the Freeport.” He sighed. “One of the darkest days in Zoner history. And the reason we believe that firmly enforced neutrality, not mere ‘live and let live,’ is the only viable course.”
Cayran met the colonel’s gaze, steady and resolved.
“Which is also why I won’t risk permanently hosting a non-Zoner strike force. It would jeopardize our diplomacy across the board. In the face of a major threat, we can expand capacity for volunteers and offer generous bounties, but not a standing foreign garrison.
As for the Outcasts, their presence here is minimal and transient. And this station will never become a cardamine market, if that’s your concern.”
He added, more evenly:
“This station will operate as a neutral ground. It’s the main gateway to the Omicrons; even we cannot afford to close the gate to all but friends, or we fail as Zoners. It can be infuriating—I know—but everyone benefits from true neutrality.”
The hologram resumed its slow rotation of the projected superstructure as Jonathan’s hand hovered over it.
“Regarding additional weapons platforms: that would be a separate project, should Pygar’s strategic value rise. For now, Pygar is a shelter, ringed by dangerous ruins, and we’ll scale defenses accordingly.”
