Boem had anticipated my confusion, or seen it clearly drawn in my face. “It’s the Federation. They are backing the Wonneriti Resistance. YJP are independent, and if our plans for expansion are to continue, we are going to need to keep the System out of Federation control.”

That would certainly explain the commotion. I had just jumped into the Yembo System a couple of hours ago and headed straight to Naddoddur, and from there to FST. I had noticed things were a bit tense, but I was more hungry than curious. “Why would Elysium’s Department of Commerce Director send you? I would think this would fall into Security Services HQ or Central Intelligence Department, not the guys who come up with trade routes. No offense.”

The man grinned mischievously. “Trade routes, eh?” He said, with a chuckle. “That’s rich.”

I knew perfectly well the DoC did more than that. In fact, all departments in Elysium Corp. worked closely with each other, which was how the whole machine functioned so well: independent but integrated. I still tried to be as annoying as possible. It was a little ritual I had with Boem.

“This is a proxy war being waged by the Federation. We’ve known for a long time of their interest in Yembo System. They finally decided to act on it. They wouldn’t risk overt involvement at the moment, so the fighting has been contained to several conflict zones. For now.”

Things became clearer as my burrito got colder. “And if it spreads beyond the conflict zones?” I asked.

“We don’t expect the fighting to spill into the station and outposts. And we aim to keep it that way. Security HQ ships are engaging the Wonneriti Resistance head on,” Boem explained. “DoC has its pilots bringing supplies to Justice Party controlled stations, in particular Palladium and Platinum to build weapons.”

“Looks like you have the whole thing figured out then,” I said, my eyes alternating between my now mushy meal and the clean and tidy commander in front of me. The difference between the two could not be starker. In particular because one currently had salsa, and I wanted to throw salsa at the other. “What do you need me for? Need my exceptional fighting skills to take out a Capital Ship?”

Boem’s laugh betrayed him, coming out of a snort from the usually composed man. I was not trying to be funny.

“No,” he said. “In fact, we would rather if you did not engage any ship in the conflict zones. Security HQ sent their best, we will not need your, erm, ‘services’, in that regard.”

I shot him a hurt look. Now both my meal and my mood were ruined. I think he may have noticed it.

“Security HQ has already managed to rout two Capital Ships.”

My eyes went wide. The Federation deployed Farragut Battle Cruisers, ships over 2km long that looked as friendly as a honey badger floating in zero g shooting lasers out of its mouth. Fought like that, too. There were rumours they could only be destroyed by another capital ship. They were so powerful, they don’t even bother with shields, investing instead on even more firepower.

Suddenly, I was relieved my combat skills were not required in the conflict zones.

“They did what?” I asked. I had put down my burrito down at some point without even realizing. “How did they pull that off?” Coming from any CMDR, I would have been incredulous. But CMDR Desposa and Boem were not ones to joke about routing a Farragut Battle Cruiser.

“We have a member of Elysium infiltrated as a high ranking Federation officer. Yes, that particular CMDR,” he replied to my inquisitive stare. “His search for a very large hat is proving most useful. Destroying a Farragut is futile, we shot everything we had at it, and its hull just would not give. But the CID, in coordination with SSHQ and our Directors figured out a way to route it.”

He pulled out a tablet and a video of a firefight filled the screen. Lasers illuminated the CZ as suddenly a Capital Ship materialized, bright bursts emanating from its hull. The view changed, and now I was watching the battle from the cockpit of a Vulture ship, one of our CMDRs coordinating the attack.

It was madness. I had never seen so much concentrated fire in my life. The calm voice of CMDR Pietas started issuing orders, turned to his display, and targeted the Ferraguts heat relay. I looked up from the tablet.

Boem raised his eyebrows, his smile threatening to betray his usually calm and collected demeanour. “Keep watching,” He said. “Here comes the good part.”

CMDR Pietas Vulture flew into the capital ship. In a manoeuvre that should have killed any pilot with less skill, the Vulture navigated into the centre of the behemoth, all the while calmly communicating with the rest of his wing. He targeted the next set of heat relays, and opened fire.

My jaw dropped as the relatively small Vulture caused the capital ship to rumble and shift its monstrous weight to one side, almost taking the Vulture with it.

A black and violet swirling hole opened in the space of the Conflict Zone, and the Ferragut Battle Cruiser limped and disappeared through it, swallowed by what looked like a miniature black hole.

A wing of Elysium commanders had routed a capital ship. It was an impossible sight.

We have actual video footage

The video feed ended, and I looked up towards Boem. I stuttered for a second. “And you said they did this… twice?” I asked, awestruck, the best burrito in the sector forgotten.

Boem nodded. “The Federation did not like that at all. They took it personally, and will try to undermine us some way or another. But they will fail. This war is almost over, but it will not be the last one.” He said, his excitement receding to his usual serious disposition.

“There is work to be done. Elysium Corp. will become a minor faction soon,” he said. “We will officially be running this system as both a corporation and a political entity. The Federation have shown their interest in our space. We know the Empire and Alliance will follow suit. All Departments of EC will have important tasks, essential tasks to carry out before that happens.”

He stood up, took the tablet from my hand, and casually put it away. “CMDR Desposa and other Department heads will want to talk to you. When you are ready, of course. Enjoy your meal, CMDR.” He said, and walked away.

A thousand things rushed through my head as I absentmindedly picked up the burrito and took a bite.

A glob of salsa fell on my trouser.