When it’s clear I have nothing else to say, the Chancellor clears his throat and looks around at the rest of them.

“Well I’m sure you’re all very eager to hear what I do up in this office all day.”

He pauses, and it takes a second for Michael to catch on.

“So, Chancellor Green,” he says with genuine interest. “What is it that a chancellor does, exactly?”

“I’m glad you asked, Mr. Rafting.” The Chancellor winks at him. A glint of the Kairos supernova reflects in his glasses. “My responsibilities vary from day to day. Sometimes I assign treatises, sometimes I review proposals, and sometimes I even write a negotiation of my own.” He gestures at the Embassy. “I also perform checks on cities to make sure our industries are holding up. Unfortunately…”

He sighs and watches a second hovercraft drift to the docking platforms, then limps to his desk and lowers himself into the chair, grunting when he sits. The five of us remain standing.

“Unfortunately what, sir?” Michael asks, furrowing his brow.

“As I’m sure you’re aware, Undil has been in debt to a number of planets for supplying the resources to uphold our Embassy and cities until we could sustain ourselves. Under Zacharias Slater’s restructured program, Gray Wall Industries became the dominant manufacturer of space tech, allowing us to pay off a number of those debts. Narviid, however, insisted that we share the industry, promising our debts paid in full.

“I resisted. Undil needed Gray Wall not only to pay off debts, but to shape a society—and quickly.” He speaks directly to me now. “Your father met with the Narvidian Minister a number of times, trying to negotiate a payment timeline, but the Minister insisted that a joint pact was in our best interests due to the fact that Narviid and Undil travel more than any other Embassy.”

Chancellor Green taps his finger restlessly on the desk. “Your father held out just as I did, but it didn’t take long before the Narvidians started negotiating with Ambassador Ravad, Undil’s infamous Narvidian sympathizer. Ravad went and signed away half of Gray Wall in the Joint Space Tech Treatise…or as I call it, the Beggar’s Treatise.

“Unable to undo Ravad’s work, I reassigned the treatise to Ambassador Lance. Your father was the most capable man we had, Arman. Busy though he was, he agreed, and managed to keep Narviid’s shares limited. Then Belvun’s ecosystems started collapsing, and we had to ship him off to take care of those problems. In his absence, Ravad took over, and Narviid’s been on the verge of forming an independent space fleet ever since. If they do, we’ll permanently lose half of Gray Wall’s profits.”

“Why are we letting them become independent, then?” Michael asks, frowning. “I mean, if it’s going to hurt us—”