They continued to observe the rigorous military maneuvers while they discussed the growing crisis. The heavy fleet buildup had required a retooling of many Hansa industries. The EDF had been forced to scrape raw materials and finished components from widespread human colonies. The Hanseatic League had already levied higher taxes and tariffs in order to continue expanding the military. Everyone had been called upon to pull together and show the strongest possible face.

The aggressive deep-core creatures had struck again, and again.

“I could engage a much more effective preparation for this impending conflict if I had some intelligence—even basic data—of our adversary,” General Lanyan said forcefully. “Have we received any communication yet from the enemy, any parley or demands? Do we even know what they are? Why they attack us?”

Basil shook his head. “They’ve left no survivors.”

“Is it true they attacked a third Roamer skymine?”

“Yes, but we haven’t generally released that report yet. No warning, no mercy. Complete destruction, same as before. If the Roamers are afraid to continue harvesting ekti, we’ll run into fuel shortages.”

Lanyan grumbled, “Maybe now those aloof gypsies will join with the rest of the Hansa. Have they requested EDF protection? Military escorts at their remaining skymine facilities?”

Basil frowned. “Not in so many words, but they will eventually. The Roamers have never been keen on asking us for help.”

“Let them scrape by then.” General Lanyan descended to a wider valley where they watched spacesuited marines performing ground exercises. The glider maintained too much altitude for Basil to see details other than silvery shapes moving about on the red sands. “After executing Sorengaard’s corsairs, I suspected that the Roamers might present certain difficulties of their own. These aliens might keep them in line.”

Basil scolded him. “Don’t let prejudice color your thoughts, General. The Roamers have never committed overt violence against Hansa settlements. Rand Sorengaard himself seems to have been an anomaly.”

“A deceased anomaly,” the General said.

“We have no need of scapegoats. The Roamers have lost three skymine facilities with no survivors. We need ekti, General, and if the Roamers stop providing it, we don’t have alternative sources readily available. Neither do the Ildirans.”

Lanyan nodded grudgingly as he watched the soldiers moving about in the impossibly dry valley of the waterless world. Basil suspected that, like himself, the General was mainly bothered that the Roamers operated as they pleased, without any Hansa oversight. Tariffs and taxes were imposed on ekti deliveries, but the actual skymines went unregulated, unmonitored. The space gypsies provided stardrive fuel and other resources desperately needed by Hansa colonies, so Roamer eccentricities had to be tolerated.

As a military man, though, Lanyan was concerned. “I just don’t like the existence of such a large and independent group of… guerillas. Nobody knows what they’re doing out there, or even where they all live. Consider the potential risk they represent.”