Narval's smile was vapid, metallic.
"I commend you for the manner in which you represented Drummer and, I add, myself. You did well with the log depot Commander and that upstart on the transport. I am especially pleased with the way you conducted yourself in that little squabble on the transport."
"Thank you, Mr. President."
"Now, to more important matters, Brad."
Narval leaned back in his deeply cushioned chair and tented his stubby fingers.
"Your observations on the deployment of UIPS military forces interests me. It supports my suspicions. The Inner Region's internal Space Guard is constabulary in both organization and mission. Their jurisdiction is confined by the UIPS borders. Their Military Space Force, on the other hand, has a charter to roam the Solar System — comparable to ancient laws ensuring open seas and oceans.
"Transfer of fighter craft and pilots from the UIPS Space Guard to the Military Space Force, I suspect, is now taking place. Many will need to be refitted for long range operations, and their crews trained in military concepts and tactics in place of those employed in local constabulary duties."
Narval twisted the rings on his fingers, and his tiny eyes seemed to sink deeper into surrounding flesh.
"The greatest single concern of the UIPS is the integrity of Slingshot and the Special Zone. I am convinced that the UIPS military forces, once they attain optimum strength, will attempt to crush me, or at the least, dominate the Zone.
"We must prepare to withstand, to resist, and to triumph over this UIPS aggression in the Outer Region."