His son, Merdon, showed what the merchant must have looked like in his youth: tall, broad, strong-limbed. The two men shared the same facial characteristics— prominent cheekbones, broad brow, massive, stubborn jaw. \
“Merdon. I told you this was raving lunacy when you first revealea your idiotic plans to me,” the older man raged. “I was wrong. It’s worse. It’s doom. It’s damnation. It’s the ruin ofour planet and our peopleAnd my son—my only son—is the ringleader.”
Merdon shook his head slowly and waited for his father to go on.
“Why couldn’t you have trusted my judgment? You, of all people! You should have remained at my side, and helped me to control your hot-blooded young friends. You should have warned me of the plot against the governor’s life. Instead you remained siTent. You should have spoken against those who wanted to shoot back at the Terrans. Instead you went even farther.”
“I did what I had to do, Father. The Terrans weren’t going to be swayed by mere words.”
“Oh no, you had to be clever. One step ahead of everyone, including your father. Free the pfanet! Throw the foreigners out! How? By inviting other foreigners in to fight for us. Barbarians!”
“But it’s working,” the youth said defensively. “The Komani have beaten the Terran garrison in several engagements.”
“Yes, and now the Imperial Marines are here.”
“And the Komani have trapped them.”
“WHAT?”
“Didn’t you know? The Terrans have been trapped in a valley—in the Carmeer district. The Komani have them surrounded. It’s only a matter of time….”