He still felt unresolved on how to facilitate improved relationships between several of his Holding Companies and a now-scattered tribe they'd had to relocate. The unfortunate result of discovering a priceless deposit of chrystum. Unfortunate, but unavoidable. Now he also had an intelliNet insurgency on his hands. Messy. All sorts of messes to deal with lately, he scowled. The demands of war prevailed upon Harris to do what was necessary for the economy. He couldn't always slow down to maintain the cultural continuity of every tribe and community that had decided to squat on his undeveloped worlds. He closed his eyes, unable to see the best solution to this dilemma. He didn't see it yet, he corrected himself, going back to the maps. This kind of thing had earned him his gray hairs in the first place. “Harris,” a familiar voice interrupted. The weary monarch steeled himself not to jump at the surprise, and turned regally to greet the High King. He fell to one knee, hand over his heart.
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