The story of the second war was the tale of his grandfather. The Union was larger and stronger, and the second war began as the first one had ended, with defeat before the superior arms of the enemy. Until Rance Barron led a phalanx of young officers to the forefront, casting aside the fossilized high command and revolutionizing the Confederation navy. In a series of running battles, this new guard fought the Union to a standstill. The elder Barron hadn’t been able to liberate the Lost Worlds, but he had saved the Confederation from total conquest, and he’d become a national hero in the process.

Rance Barron’s exploits were taught in every school in the Confederation. But Tyler had memories of his grandfather the others didn’t…fishing trips to the cold rivers north of the family estate on Corellia, late night games of chess in front of a roaring fire. Rance Barron wasn’t just a great warrior to him, he was much, much more, and Tyler resented how the constant pressure and repeated comparisons so often pushed those pleasant thoughts from his mind.

The Third War had picked up where the second ended…at least until the Union managed to obtain intel on the location of Admiral Barron’s ship. The resulting attack cost the Confederation its greatest hero and threatened to turn the tide yet again. But the Union First died shortly after, and a massive power struggle erupted, crippling the enemy’s ability to wage the war.

Admiral Barron’s protégés had been quick to take advantage of the situation, but their victories were limited. The Union sued for peace, and the civilian government opened talks almost immediately. The military commanders begged for the authority to continue their attacks, but the Confederation was a republic, and its people and politicians were sick of war. The warnings of the generals and admirals, that once the Union restored internal order the threat would reappear, were largely ignored, and the war ended with the Confederation regaining two of the Lost Worlds, but leaving the remaining eight to enter their third generation in captivity.

Barron leaned back in his chair, putting his hand to his forehead. He wondered what his grandfather would have said, if his influence would have been enough to gain the support he would have needed to push the last war to a more definitive conclusion. But that was immaterial. The past was set, and now his own generation would have to finish what the previous one had left undone. The Union was determined to subjugate the Confederation. The better part of a century of warfare had proven that beyond doubt. If the Confederation was ever to have true peace, Barron realized, it had to do more than beat back another Union attack. It had to destroy its enemy…or at least inflict enough pain to make another attack unthinkable.

A small buzzer sounded, pulling him from his thoughts.

“Yes?”