Lysander intended to rule Brentaal IV someday.
There was the small matter of having no particular claim to it, of course. Nor did he possess the wealth, political influence, or local support to make such an ambition especially realistic. But these were problems to be solved, and he'd never been the type to abandon an idea because it required a great deal of work.
Nearly half a year now. That was the tally of his quiet war. Though little of it had been fought on Brentaal itself; most of it went into studying trade routes, reviewing freight records, speaking with the right people, and trying to determine where a newcomer might find room among families who had been doing business here for generations.
From the windows of his rented office, the city stretched toward the coast, its towers and commercial districts broken up by the occasional spaceport. He would look out at it some evenings and feel the strange hunger of a man studying a locked door he intended, one day, to walk through.
Astra Sadow was already far ahead; Sanguine Enterprises had secured its preliminary positions, and he couldn't imagine her needing much encouragement to see things through. It was odd, when he let himself think about it, how much had grown from that first meeting on Empress Teta. He had come to her with nothing but suspicions, concerns about the Core's supply chains and a freight operation out of Brentaal. A small opportunity, he'd thought then. Still, Lysander had no intention of asking Astra to bankroll his ambitions without offering something substantial in return. He'd always believed that if he wanted something from another person, he ought to have something worth offering in return.
Spore Industries presented another opportunity altogether. Establishing a central distribution hub on Brentaal would put the company at the intersection of two of the galaxy's busiest trade routes, the Hydian Way and Perlemian Trade Route, opening markets across the Core and beyond. Lysander rather liked the possibilities. Which was why he'd invited Madrona A’Mia to the planet.
There were others he intended to approach in time. Local merchants and established families. He would have to give them reasons to believe their fortunes might improve alongside his own.
He considered what Mercy might think of this; she would no doubt point out the swifter methods. Armies, for one. Lysander preferred Brentaal to thrive under his guidance, not break beneath it. Should diplomacy fail, other methods remained. Tapani had proven that well enough. Though he held no fondness for what had transpired there, he would not let sentiment hinder his aims.
The only question was how much would be left when it was done.
