Matthias chose not to argue the matter further. A hastily convened meeting in her office wasn’t going to settle several hundred years of differences between Deyzara and Sakuntala. Anyway, her concerns were more immediate.
“I understand your anxiety. Believe me, I do. I’m just reviewing the latest news right now.” She indicated the information-rich projection that continued to hover above her desk. “I assure you that the Commonwealth government is aware of the situation developing here on Fluva and is preparing an appropriate response. Meanwhile, I will continue to use every resource at my command to deal with the immediate needs of your people, and to seek a solution to these unexpected and objectionable actions that are being perpetrated by a minority of disaffected Sakuntala.”
There, she thought. That was straightforward, reassuring, and diplomatic at the same time. Diplomatic in that if word of it leaked out to the Sakuntala, she had said nothing that could be construed as favoring the Deyzara.
Her visitors’ reaction showed that they wanted more action and stronger language but didn’t quite know how to press for it. Finally, one of the youngest delegates spoke up.
“At the risk of embarrassing myself with my forwardness, Administrator Matthias, I have to very much say that something needs to be done now. This is no longer merely a matter of displaced persons and stolen goods.” Both trunks stretched toward her imploringly. “Our people are being killed out there. Their homes are being destroyed, their occupations ruined, their lives cast aside like old namurand shells. I fear most strongly that we cannot wait for distant decisions to be made on faraway worlds as to whether a committee should be appointed to look into the matter of the minor troubles on far-flung Fluva. If the Commonwealth cannot or will not do something about this, then we us ourselves will have to respond as best we can. We are not green frashera, to be nudged unresistingly into the cooking pot.”