Dalish ud Klavan, stooped and withered, sat hopelessly, opposite
Marlowe, who sat behind his desk like a grizzled polar bear, his
thinning mane of white hair unkempt and straggling.
"Marlowe, my people are strangling," the old Dovenilid said.
Marlowe looked at him silently.
"The Holliday Republic has signed treaty after treaty with us, and still
their citizens raid our mining planets, driving away our own people,
stealing the resources we must have if we are to live."