Briggs

Paris, France

United Federation of Nations Headquarters

Earth

Sol

Milky Way Galaxy

The sprawling headquarters of Admiral Markus Briggs’ campaign was buzzing with energy as campaign staff shuffled about, eyes glued to monitors streaming real-time election results. The dim lighting contrasted with the flickering glow of screens reflecting a whirlwind of numbers, names, and precincts. Bright, crisp banners read “Briggs for President” while supporters animatedly gathered in groups, fingers crossed and prayers murmured as they awaited the outcome of the election.

Markus paced slowly toward the front of the makeshift stage, a blend of anxiety and hope weighing heavily on his shoulders. Campaign staff bustled around him, their busy chatter painting a chaotic picture of anticipation. He’d already seen the initial wave of results pouring in, showing him ahead of Maria DeSantis—a pivotal opponent, no less.

“Come on, come on,” Markus muttered under his breath, glancing down at the tablet in his hand. The margins had looked promising. The Outer Rim Territories and the Jovian System were reporting solid support, lifting his spirits momentarily. But the inner systems, particularly the central hubs of power on Earth, Mars, and Ceres, were leaning heavily in DeSantis' favor.

“Admiral!” A young campaign aide rushed up to him, breathless, excitement flickering in his eyes. “You’re still holding strong in the Outer Rim. The breakouts from the Jovian and Ceres territories are going well too! But... it looks like DeSantis is starting to gain ground in the Inner Systems. Reports are filtering in; she has the majority in Earth and Mars.”

“Damn it,” Markus sighed, running a hand through his hair, the tension at the back of his neck refusing to ease. “How close are we talking?”

“Close enough that we need every vote we can get. The early results from Alpha Centauri are split, but… the momentum is shifting toward her. Some of the districts are showing more support for her than we anticipated,” the aide explained, the urgency in his voice thickening the air around them.

Markus turned his attention to the large screen looming before him, showing a detailed map of the voting districts across the galaxy. The vivid colors morphed and pulsed as the votes were counted, a dynamic interpretation of the election unfolding in real-time. Blue represented his campaign, while the deeper crimson denoted DeSantis’ rapidly growing lead. A fierce knot tightened in his stomach as he assessed the shifting dynamics.

“Can we get an update on the delegates from the Outer Systems? How many do we have?” he inquired, his brow furrowing with concern.

Another staffer hurried over, laptop in hand, scrolling through the data. “We’re looking alright, but if the trends continue, we could start losing our edge. We showed strength in the Jovian sector and Epsilon Eridini, but our support back on Earth is waning really quickly. We need to focus on rallying the supporters we have left—give them something to unite behind!”

The warmth of camaraderie amongst his supporters energized Markus, but that warmth was quickly tempered by the grim reality of the numbers. “I need to address the crowd; let them know we’re still in this, and we need every individual effort moving forward,” he decided, straightening up with resolve.

The aide nodded, nudging Markus toward the edge of the stage, where the lights began to illuminate him against the backdrop of anticipation simmering below.

Markus took a deep breath, stepping into the spotlight as he felt the weight of his supporters on his shoulders. Their expectant faces, mouths slightly parted with hope, fueled his spirit even as doubt swirled in his mind.

“Thank you all for being here tonight! Thank you for the tireless passion you’ve shown throughout this campaign,” he began, his voice ringing out over the crowd with conviction. “We’ve fought hard to make our voices heard, and I am proud to stand alongside each and every one of you. The results are still coming in, and though the early indicators show I am leading in the Outer Rim Territories and the Jovian System, we know that we’re up against a tough competitor. Maria DeSantis is a formidable opponent, and she has proven herself through an exceptional campaign.”

The room echoed with murmurs; despite the gloomy forecasts to his rear, he knew drawing attention toward her accomplishments was crucial in maintaining the spirit of his supporters. “We are counting on every last vote; we will not give in or give up. The spirit of our united federation is what has brought us this far, and we must keep pushing for a better future! The voices of the people must resonate across every system,” Markus proclaimed, ramping up the energy in the crowd. Excitement buzzed again as cheering began to ripple through the audience.

“We have battled tirelessly—together—for the last months of this campaign,” Markus continued. “We must hold the torch of hope aloft! But I must remind you that, though we might see some numbers that appear discouraging in the coming minutes, remember where we have already succeeded and continue striving for victory!”

That sentiment rippled through the crowd, engendering hope once again, and he felt the connection fueling his performance.

“Keep your eyes on the prize. Each vote counts, and I need each of you to reach out to your friends, your families, and even co-workers. Encourage them to join our cause! We are marching forward, and we have the strength of the Outer Rim behind us!”

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

As the applause thundered, he held out his hands, reveling for just a moment longer in the warmth of their support.

Returning backstage, he spotted his campaign manager, looking intensely at the screens—they showed DeSantis pulling ahead in Earth and Mars, the lead widening.

“It’s slipping away,” the manager stammered, worry cleaving through his brow.

“Not yet; let’s keep it together. Once we get word about Alpha Centauri, we’ll decide whether we need to shift strategies or turn up the heat. We must also remain vigilant with focus on rallying support everywhere,” Markus reassured him.

The aide shook his head, clearly still in disbelief. “Markus, it’s serious. DeSantis is leading by an increasing margin. Her campaign has sent out a flurry of ads, staging events at local hotspots, and we’re lagging! I suggest making a more aggressive push. Need those supporters. Now!”

“Let’s keep perspective. There’s still a chance.” Markus’ heart raced as doubt wrestled with the absurd optimism that dwelled within all politicians. It felt overwhelming; yet he couldn’t abandon hope. Beyond the numbers and statistics, he fought not just for power for himself but for a vision he truly believed in—for a better future.

Not long after, the news crews covering the election began commenting live on air, broadcasting sentiments of victory or defeat across the galaxy. Even now, the tickers indicated DeSantis had taken all three districts on Mars—all safe bets for his campaign, having been heavily stumped by independent voters who had previously supported him.

Markus stewed in uncomfortable silence, eager to re-engage with the public but anxious about the results shifting. As he peered back at the screens, the results rolled down as quick as the numbers multiplied. Each new report signaled the waning hour of a campaign teetering upon collapse. His heart sank further with every tick of the numbers denoting the flood of rapid updates pouring in.

The fear set in as dozens of reports began to pour in on combined votes. He felt it envelop him like smoke; the familiar sting of rejection clawed at his gut.

As he grew anxious, his aide continued scouring the reports. “They’re pulling ahead with the inner systems. We’re finished.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” Markus muttered, trying to mask his concern amidst the chaos.

The commotion stirred amongst the staffers wrapped in anxiety.

“Earth’s pulling in heavy for DeSantis,” one staff member said, his voice thick with despair.

“She’s taken Ceres; that’s a key area for us!” another added.

“Alpha Centauri is split, but they have more delegates backing her now; it’s turning against us. If things proceed like this, she’ll just keep pulling numbers. This could mean an absolute loss for our campaign.” The tool of anxiety churned within him; Markus couldn’t deny the creeping sensation of fear grabbing onto him. DeSantis was not his adversary just for the race; she embodied the very ideals he’d been fighting against.

“Markus,” his campaign manager said, breaking his turmoil, “we need to address the audience again.”

“Right,” he confirmed, steeling himself for yet another appearance. The last trickle of hope gripped his heart as he stepped back into the stage lights, ready to face the crowd once more.

With each step echoing in an electric atmosphere, he breathed in deeply, conjuring everything he had prepared. “Thank you all for your unabashed support. We will not back down! The numbers show we are in a tough fight, but as long as we stand together, we can overcome any odds! Let’s continue pushing forward!” He called as cheers erupted once more.

It felt good to keep his spirits high, yet visions of defeat flickered in his sanguine mind. The numbers weighed heavily against him, and the tide of votes from the Inner Systems loomed like a monstrous shadow. It felt surreal, the hope ebbing away from every shout of encouragement. The thrill of a predictable electoral victory receding into the complexity of defeat, egged on by the overwhelming support of progressive values that had taken America by storm.

Once backstage, he found himself back at the monitors just as the results ticked in, revealing a swift tailspin of vote shares that sent shockwaves of despair coursing through the room. The last flicker of hope extinguished as the public acknowledged DeSantis’ undeniable success through the will of the vote.

Maria DeSantis had crossed the threshold encircling him like a force of laughter and determination; one way or another, she had proven to be everything he thought she would be and more.

A firm knock on the door startled him from despair, and a moment later, DeSantis herself stepped into the crowded room, her presence commanding immediate attention.

“Admiral,” she greeted, her voice warm but authoritative, cutting through the noise. “You ran a hell of a race.”

He nodded, the weight of reality resting heavy upon his shoulders as she leaned closer. “You fought hard for this.”

“Well done, Maria,” he replied, forcing a smile to mask the anxiety and uncertainty that beat rhythmically in his chest.

“I admire what you’ve achieved. I’ve watched you over the years, held you in the highest esteem since your days leading the Federation against the Alliance. It’s been an honor sharing this stage.”

The respect woven into her words surprised him, and for a moment, the adversarial nature of their campaigns fell away. They were two leaders forged in chaos, both fighting for a reckoning.

“Maria, thank you,” he replied, genuine admiration flickering beneath his initial weariness.

“Listen, I want to make this clear—I need someone with your expertise on my cabinet as Secretary of Defense. Your leadership and experience have been nothing short of inspiring for many—myself included.”

“I’m not sure how to respond, Maria. Your cabinet will have its share of critics based on our races and differing philosophies. Joining your team would effectively unify my staunchest supporters against me. Not only that, but your ideologies are very different.”

“Markus, it’s time for unification.” Maria leaned closer, her tone serious. “A divided house cannot stand. Together, we could work to ensure lasting peace across our federations. If we want a future for the universe, it must start with us.

“Maria,” he started, his heart pounding as the magnitude of the moment settled in. “I didn’t come into this hoping for a win at any cost; I came because I believed in advocating for reform, for balance in our universe. This is true of you as well. Our differences are stark—but your thoughts on responsibility and understanding in governance align with the principles you share with my campaign.”

“I appreciate that, Markus. Together, we can enact real change. It’s time we set aside our differences, focus on the essential work that lies ahead, and protect every system under our charge.”

It was a tempting offer, one he intensely wrestled with at that moment. He had fought her fiercely, laboring to highlight their differences throughout the campaign. Yet, deep within, he recognized the state of the universe demanded cooperation, that change rested upon their shoulders. “I think… I think I’d be honored to serve, Maria.”

A flicker of satisfaction illuminated her features, the tension in the air finally dissipating. “Welcome aboard, Admiral. We have quite a bit of work ahead of us.”

With that, the daunting tide of uncertainty that had colored the evening began to lift, replaced instead by the promise of hope and collaboration. They were, in many ways, two sides of the same coin.

As they shook hands—a gesture that signified an end as much as it did a new beginning—a sense of unity thrummed through the room, a beacon of change illuminating the path that lay ahead. The world outside still held its unknowns, but for the moment, they stood resolutely together, ready to face whatever challenges awaited.