e process of political arrest, judgment and exile had already begun.
The process was especially swift and unyielding on Athena, where nearly
eighty percent of the inhabitants, considered either dangerous or
unnecessary to the occupation, were to be transported to the newly
constructed facilities of the Belgian prison planet, Dracus IIa.

True to their word, the arrests were made without violence. Families
were kept together whenever possible (except where a father, husband or
wife was needed to operate high-tech equipment, thought-controlled
machinery or the like), and all were given suitable quarters while
awaiting the transport ships that would take them to Dracus. They were
told that upon arrival they would be given the resources to feed,
clothe, and govern themselves, and that no harm would come to those who
cooperated. The Alliance had no intention of turning public opinion
against itself, or calling to anyone's mind (especially their own) the
barbarities and prison-camp horrors of previous wars.

Their plan was simple. Send all undesirables and non-essential
personnel to secretly located prison planets deep within their
boundaries, give them the tools they needed to survive, cut off all
communication, and simply leave them there. When the war was over
there would be time to consider a more permanent solution.

And at the moment there were more pressing matters at hand. First they
had to ascertain exactly who it was they were fighting, and why---since
clearly they didn't share Hayes' obsession, and intended to act wholly
independent of him.

Here were the facts as they saw them.

The Dutch Provinces, long coveted, were now in their possession, along
with the Athena colonies. Their strength, especially monetary, had
grown because of it. There was no substantial inter-galactic outcry
against them, their own activities being largely overshadowed by the
possibility of a full-scale offensive push by the Commonwealth. And
their losses to date, though somewhat more substantial than they had
hoped, could not outweigh their ambition. Except for the German-made
carrier, which they had not expected to lose, the fleet sent against
Dubcek had been manned by robot crews only, the idea being to exchange
hardware, which could be replaced, for the bounty of Athena. They had
even taken a new, bi-national symbol, the pouncing leopard, and had it
emblazoned on their ships, and on the sleeves of all their flyers.

But