The Operative sighed as he pulled his ship from orbit around the planet called Hera. *Just one more puzzle piece set into place...* Scratching at an itch that had materialized on the left side of his neck, the man verified the course set into his nav computer and finally allowed himself to relax. He began mentally practicing the final steps of his plan. His next stop would be to finish his dealings with the Resistance.

The entire ordeal was a slow and meticulous process. It required incredible amounts of strategy, political flexibility, and strong patience. The Operative possessed all of these qualities, and after almost a year, it seemed that the seeds were nearly all sewn. *Once that is finally accomplished, it shouldn’t take long for those seeds to grow and bloom… into civil war.*

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Bull stopped his horse as the McDavin homestead came into view. Eighteen men on horseback halted around and behind him. “There’s two horses tied up out front,” he commented, peering through a rusty set of binoculars. “Two horses missin’. Mule, too.” He lowered the binoculars. “Somebody’s gotta be home.” He chambered a round in his lever action. “What say we pay someone a little visit, Boys?”

All seemed to be in agreement, and the small cavalry descended upon the home like ants attacking a rival anthill. The closer they got to the house, however, the more Bull’s nerves began to go on edge.

“Don’t see no activity, Bull,” Chester commented as the group stopped in front of the house. “Mebbe they ain’t home, after all.”

“Fei hua,” Tinksy observed. “They got two horses tied up.”

“Don’t mean this ain’t a trap,” Bull warned. “Zhu tamin ya min zhu yi. So there’s two horses an’ a mule missin’. They got two o’ their horses left behind. Nah mei guan-shee.”

Three shots were fired in succession in the distance behind the group, and all turned to see a figure on horseback a good distance away. “Let’s get after ‘em!” Bull shouted, and the team of horses were redire