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whoopin’ and shoutin’ and scared the livin’ daylights out of them Imperial soldiers. We killed a lot of ’em, but in their confusion and panic and because of the bad light, they were as likely to shoot down their own men as us. When it was all over, I just laid there on my back, exhausted and battered, splattered with the blood and gore of friend and foe alike. I was too numb even to get sick, though I never felt more like it in my life.
    “We lost nigh on a thousand men, but the Imperials lost more than half. By the time they surrendered, less than four thousand remained. Our victory was complete.” Uncle Charles paused for effect.
    “And greater than we ever dared hope for. To our amazement, one of the captured was none other than the crown prince himself, Henry the Strong. Well, sir, I’ll tell you, that was quite a prize! Now we had some real bargainin’ power. Henry himself turned out to be highly uncooperative. He didn’t want to make any deals and give back what he had hoped to take from us by force.
    “How well I remember when the big break came weeks later. I was standin’ guard over the Imperial communications equipment when a powerful transmission came in. I sent for the CO, and he brought the prince with him. The transmission was from a newly arrived emissary with a vital message for Henry from Daniel Mizpala, First Minister. He said simply, ‘The Emperor is dead! Long live the Emperor!’ Henry’s father had been killed by rebel forces in the civil war on earth. It was done by suicide squad sent right into the royal residence with a small fission bomb.
    “Well, let me tell you, it didn’t take long for Henry to come to terms with us. All of a sudden, we we re small stakes. He had to hightail it home on a more important matter: consolidatin’ his new position as Emperor. The political situation on earth was far too fragile and unstable for him to sit around hagglin’ with a bunch of nobody offworld farmers. And we were just as eager to help him on his way. If he couldn’t make good his claim, our treaty would be invalid.
    “So, kids, that’s the story of how we won freeborn citizenship for everyone on Cirrus and forced the Trading Company to honor its commitments.”
    “But,” queried Matthias, “why didn’t you get the bondage agreements canceled altogether? You could’ve gotten anything you demanded.”
    Uncle Charles drew himself up to his full six feet and stuck out his chin as he always did when about to proclaim some basic tenant of honorable conduct. “Our bondage was a just debt. We Mennonites always discharge our just debts.”
    “Time for dessert,” chimed Aunt Martha as she poked her head through the kitchen door. The children made a dash for the kitchen, and Timothy, who had virtually succumbed to his weariness, rolled over and shook out the cobwebs.
    Cocking a scornful eye at Charles, Aunt Martha hissed, “Old fool! Filling the heads of these children with your awful stories of war and killin’! You ought to be ashamed!”
    “Well, I’m not! It’s our history and their heritage, one they can be proud of.”
    “Heritage!” she sniffed. “Some heritage! You’d do better telling them Scripture stories.”
    “What a splendid idea!” beamed Charles. “Next time we’ll talk about Sampson and how he slew a thousand Philistines with the jawbone of a donkey.”
    Aunt Martha rocked back on her heels, her face turning different shades of purple. Timothy sat on the floor amazed, but also a bit amused. He had never seen Aunt Martha so flustered. He watched as she turned and fled into the kitchen, gasping and wheezing and shaking her head. Uncle Charles just chuckled and followed her in.
    *
    Some nights later Timothy lay in bed, staring at the dark ceiling. For an hour now the house had been quiet. But still he waited. Finally he rose silently, crept to his closet, and retrieved the small roll of possessions he had cached there earlier. Slipping quietly through the house,