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Amber could understand the villagers' looks and attitude.

After all, they felt little sense of belonging to the Federation.

The Federation was a vast nation spanning more than eighty star systems.

To farmers whose families had not left Robert IV for generations, the Federation probably felt most real when the grain collection convoy came to the village flying its blue flag strewn with stars.

Changes in presidents and senior officials, new technologies, capital ships launching, the Federation's songstress touring the star systems—

The things people in the core systems chatted about over meals seemed as remote as fairy tales to the farmers on Robert IV.

So why, after developing automated agriculture, did the Federation still have so many farmers living on frontier agricultural planets?

Simple. At humanity's current level of technology, machines still could not take over production entirely.

Autonomous farm machinery needed people to repair it when it broke down. And on a frontier planet where spare-parts stocks might go years without being replenished, broken equipment usually stayed broken.

That meant people had to operate agricultural terminals manually, or simply drive traditional farm machinery to do the work.

As for the practice of "buying" grain, that was mainly because the Federation government still liked to look upright and benevolent on paper.

According to its account, it leased the land to farmers so they could grow crops.

Once the crops matured, the government bought them back, paying in supplies or Federation electronic currency.

Of course, by the time that policy reached the people carrying it out, it often became a compulsory purchase.

And with the central government so far away, Robert IV's top administrators and military officers could do almost anything they liked.

Beyond the crop quotas the central government required them to "purchase," they often collected extra in the Federation's name, then smuggled it out to line their own pockets.

And the farmers?

Leave them enough to eat. They had no way to sell any surplus grain anyway, did they?

Worse, those beasts paid just one-tenth of the government's standard purchase price.

As one frontier planet administrator Amber had wiretapped during a side mission in his previous life put it:

"What use is all that money to those peasants? They'll never leave this planet. Is there anywhere in this dump for them to spend it?"

"All they do each day is direct autonomous farm machinery to work the fields. They must be used to that life by now."

"As for enjoying themselves, I've worked hard to keep this planet running smoothly, haven't I?"

"So it only makes sense for me to enjoy life on their behalf, doesn't it?"

That administrator had not ended well.

Once Amber had gathered the evidence and the man was no longer worth listening to, he had stormed into his office, shoved a shotgun into his mouth, and blown his head off.

When the seat of power could not reach them and local officials behaved like monsters, how much loyalty or sense of belonging could anyone expect civilians on frontier planets to feel toward the Federation?

Still, those civilians knew how to keep their heads down amid the current turmoil.

They neither helped the Federation fight off its enemies nor rushed to side with the Empire.

To them, Federation or Empire, the only difference was the flag flying over the grain collection convoy.

Now that human territory had grown so vast, population had become one of the constraints on the development of both the Federation and the Empire.

So no matter how fiercely the two nations fought, neither side deliberately attacked civilians on planets where battles were taking place.

Turning a planet's surface to glass might be satisfying in the moment, but the cost of rebuilding afterward would make any ruler's blood pressure soar.

"What are you looking at?"

Isabel's voice came from behind him.

Amber turned to see the female spy, finished with her work, strolling over to him.

"Nothing. Just watching the villagers."

"What? Wondering why they haven't come out to welcome you?"

Isabel tilted her head at Amber, curious why he had suddenly taken an interest in the villagers.

"Of course not." Amber shook his head, then added:

"Given how this planet's administration behaves, we're lucky they aren't throwing rocks at us."

"Pfft. Seems your time in the Federation has opened your eyes to quite a few things."

Isabel covered her mouth as she chuckled, keeping her voice low.

To the others in the group, the two officers looked like a couple whispering to each other.

Amber played along, taking a few steps to draw Isabel somewhere a little more secluded.

"Don't laugh. The Empire is hardly any better than the Federation."

Amber answered Isabel's mockery with open disdain:

"The Federation's local governments may be rotten, but at least they hand over something as a token gesture, so they can claim they bought the crops."

"The Empire? It skips the purchase altogether. Civilians on agricultural planets must 'turn over' every crop beyond what they need to survive, 'as required by law.'"

"If they fall short of their quota, officials barge into their private granaries and take enough to make it up."

"The wealth gap between classes is even worse than in the Federation. I've seen civilians riding the most primitive ox carts on the same planet where imperial nobles held cocktail parties aboard private spacecraft in orbit."

"Does anyone care? No. They're all too busy with factional infighting."

Amber's words came in a rapid barrage, leaving Isabel speechless.

She was an imperial noble who worked in intelligence. How could she not know about any of this?

"Even so, you shouldn't talk about your own country like that."

Isabel was still making one last attempt to defend it. Having grown up in an imperial noble family, she could not shake off her sense of identity so easily.

"My own country? Hahaha."

Amber could not help laughing aloud.

"To both the Federation and the Empire, I'm nothing but a tool."

"Believe it or not, I've never felt any sense of belonging to either of them."

He patted Isabel, who stood there at a loss, then turned toward the convoy.

"I hope you remember that, miss."