Viktor leans over on the couch to one of the side tables and opens the drawer, pulling out two small bottles of whiskey and passing one over to Pellaeon. The decor on the room is various paintings and photos of battlefields, old statesmen, and past chancellors. “This here is Öberian whiskey, and I can guarantee it’s the finest in the world.” He twists the cap off and takes a sip. “Might as well cut to the chase. I’m sure you know that many in government and in the public don’t see you that well, huh?”
Pellaeon sighs. "Yes, I am aware of that. They see us as cowards, do they not? But what choice did we have... The main Felterian fleet would have been too great of a threat to deal with, especially with our limited navy. If they made landfall, well, the resistance would be high, but that would only result in a genocide. We had invested too much into our assault for it not to work. So, we cut our losses, and decided to live to fight another day, for the protection of die Heimat." Pellaeon's expression turns into one of remorse and sorrow, truly wishing the Syndicate could have done more.
As more Österreicher colonists arrive, Cities and towns begin to be established and construction begins, with a proper Statthalter being appointed and the same policies towards natives being implemented, as scholars, soldiers, and interested colonists meet up with many natives to either establish context and begin modernizing them or marking them to be left alone. The colony also gets another detachment of 1,250 soldiers for some inland expeditions into the colony.