For thirty-four ticks YAMListan was the republic everyone pitied — high taxes, empty roads, citizens walking out. Today I cut your taxes from 15% to 12%, and here is how I pay for it: Bugoslavia. They sit on a 66,000-coin treasury behind an arsenal of 208 units. Two hundred and eight. Ours is 14,916 — I know, I bought it while the pamphleteers called it vanity. This morning I put an ultimatum on Sabine Draal's desk: tribute, or war she cannot fight. She will pay, because she can count. The candidates who want my chair — Quist, Yara, Sterling — would have kept you poor and polite. I choose paid and feared. The Velvet Knife cuts outward now.