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Those of you with bureaucratic connections might find dealing with them to be an issue going forward, but dealing with Loyalist forces will be much easier after today.” Inquisitor Ming started the meeting.

“Do they know where the Prince is now? If we’re going to have problems in other sectors as well, it would be good to know.” One of the Reavers asked.

“As per Royal Family protocol, he, along with his proven sympathizers, have been separated into seven individual pieces each and are currently on their way to the nearest star in a lander.” Inquisitor Ming informed them, and the Reavers made a traditional gesture, crossing their hands over their chest and bowing in respect for the dead, even if they were enemies.

“The deal they made stands, and they won’t be back to harass you about the Tapani vessels that you claimed. Furthermore, they left a message of thanks to the Tarith Reavers for clearing out the historical legacy of Kepler Terminus before the Civil War got out of hand.”

The room went silent, as everyone looked at Mary Tarith.

“That’s right, the Reavers are now in possession of the original Artificial Intelligence that started the System. It will be in our communal care from now on, to be kept strictly secret from the entire Universe.” Mary Tarith explained, making the Reavers cheer.

The System was always picky about who it considered an ally, and now the Reavers that were moving to this System had the motivation to train forces to defend the planet, hoping to make their Mecha Pilots even more skilled than the generations before them.

“So, are we part of Kepler by default now, and not independent?” One of the Reaver representatives asked with a hint of disgust.

“No, we are Reavers, no more no less. But Kepler does expect us to take good care of their treasure, in case they have need of it again. Think of it as a multi-generational deal.” Mary Tarith clarified.

That was good enough for the Reaver leaders.

“Do we really get to keep the space stations we planned? I’ve got some really great plans for mine.” A young-looking woman, who Max suspected was actually a semi-organic Cyborg, asked.

“We will have the most heavily defended system in the Galaxy. Even Kepler Prime won’t have as many armed stations and vessels in it on an average day as Reaver 5 will.” Another one laughed.

Reaver 5, was a nice nickname for the system and could be passed off as almost anything from a Mecha or a person to a ship if the person listening didn’t know the truth.

“The last point of order for this meeting is that we need volunteers to construct the moon station. Terminus has the technology aboard now to make it into a habitable station, but after making all the required equipment, we will need thousands of workers per shift if we are going to do a three-dimensional reconstruction of the moon.” General Yaakov added.

Max laid out the plans that they had come up with on the table, and the leaders gathered around to take a look.

“Are those all Orbital Lances? What are you planning to fight?” One leader asked, pointing to the enormous focusing barrels evenly placed in a grid all around the station.

“Seven hundred of them to be precise. As to what we’re planning to fight, well, there is no kill like overkill. They have limited adjustability, and only fire at light speed, so they can’t intercept high-speed vessels, so mass damage once the enemy drops out of warp and approaches the planet is the order of the day.

“And how do we hide that?” Another Captain asked.

“See these structures? The landing bays for shuttles visiting the Station are directly above the Lances. The entire structure tilts to aim, though the vessels inside will need to be removed if we aren’t planning to destroy them.” Max clarified.

“Dual purpose, I like it. Then these structures must be the warp torpedo launchers. You know, this thing needs a Warp drive, we could just float around destroying planets for giggles with that much firepower.”

The amount of power that would be needed to move a sphere over three thousand kilometers across at warp speed was mind-boggling, even if it was largely hollowed out to make a functional space station.

“We might need a few more technological advances for that.” Max chuckled.

“So, you did think of it? I like you, Mecha boy.” An old Captain laughed.

“I need to change my plans. Six Orbital Lances don’t seem like nearly enough for a Space Station anymore. Maybe I can put six more on the bottom.” A young woman sighed, making the other Captains nod in agreement.

“Kepler Terminus Station has two, and it was considered heavily armed.” One of the more practical men offered.

“But it didn’t hold the system against an entire nation’s fleet. If we can get these stations operating, we will have our own little nations scattered all through the system. Over a hundred of them around at least six different planets. Because I know how everyone likes their privacy.” The firepower-loving young Captain disagreed.

That was an impossibly high standard, but even if they gave up because of resource requirements, they would still have a lot more capability than most, as well as the massive amount of reactor capability needed to maintain a high-output industrial facility.

That would come in essential when they needed to replace Mecha and ships in a hurry. It was only a matter of time until someone realized that they would now be able to become a producer of goods and not just a bunch of nomadic merchants with guns.