"Let us not pretend the situation is anything which it is not. The White Pantheon has invaded us!" Mwai looked around at the Kirinyaan politicians in their national assembly. All grim faces, all hard, all wearing the green armbands of the Reclamation War. "We have stood, and we will stand. Kirinyaa will not kneel!" It was the first time he ever saw everything stand up before him. Every person gave Kassandora's salute.
Damian Sokolowski looked through a series of binoculars from the inside of one of Melukal's towering blocks. It was an ugly city, existing only because of a trading route and nothing else. Not particularly large but neither small. Tight is how he'd describe it. Tight and contained. To the north and south stretched two large highways, both large enough for four vehicles each, then towards the eastern front of the city lay its claim to fame. Five railways heading north into Khmet, and towards the south, four went straight and one split into two to veer west.
