---Vote---
---Krim’s perspective---
“Esteemed Representatives…” I announce, my voice (somewhat unnecessarily) amplified to resound through Parliament “…debate has concluded. You know the recommendation of the Parliamentary Special Council. The time has come to vote. Before you stand two motions; the acceptance of the Vrakhand of Graom-Wakhkort to membership of the Galactic Union, granting all the rights of citizenship to each and every member of their species and guaranteeing to them representation in this body, and the acceptance of the Twigg of Graom-Wakhkort to the same!… I implore you all to decide justly and with prudence befitting your stations… May the voting commence!”
My knuckles go pale as I grip the console, watching as the ‘aye’, ‘nay’ and ‘abstaining’ numbers for both votes all rise.
---Tratholt’s perspective---
I sit in my office, my advisors around me, watching the broadcast from Citadel.
The Wiwosk Speaker raises the podium lights to indicate that the votes have concluded and that she is about to announce the results.
Based on the colours of light I saw in front of the Representatives, I’m guessing I already know the outcome… much to my dismay.
With this, the precedent will be well and truly cemented!
Being deathworlders will never again be grounds to exclude a species from the Union once these two are accepted.
I can at least console myself with the fact that, for the moment, they will still be outnumbered by more than 10,000 to one… Even if that fact is relatively cold comfort when the Terrans have so much of Parliament in their pockets!
“With 17,909 and 21,485 votes in favour of the Vrakhand and Twigg, respectively, the ayes have it and the motions pa-”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” comes a scream from the broadcast that doesn’t need to be translated for me.
I bolt upright!
My eyes widen, my breaths quicken, my heart leaps to the back of my throat and the bottom drops out of my stomach!
I recognise that scream! I heard that scream many times as a young man!
The camera cuts to show me my sister.
She looks frenzied!
Gods, Brathy! Whatever you’re about to do, don’t do it!
No sooner have I thought the thought than she is vaulting over her desk, sprinting at the Terran at full tilt.
“Guards! Stop her!” orders the Wiwosk as Brathy rounds the edge of the aquatheatre that separates them.
Several large, high Class Parliamentary guards are visible, lumbering toward her location, but they’re too far away!
She mounts the Terran’s desk who, despite having watched her coming all the way from across the chambre, has made absolutely no move to escape or defend, only now raising his right forearm between himself and my sister.
I watch in horror as she throws herself at him, screaming hysterically and flailing her claws towards his face, vainly trying to do him any injury!
Moving only his arm to keep her at a distance, the man lazily defends without attacking, all the while looking at her with pitying concern which, my guess, is only enraging her further.
That is until he misjudges slightly, allowing her to nick his right cheek, drawing a little of his bright red blood.
“HAHA!!!” screams Brathy, more coherent than she’s been since she began throwing this tantrum “NOT SO INVINCIBLE AFTERALL, ARE Y-!?”
At that moment, she is interrupted by having her entire body wrapped in the fist of a Jukt guard.
The enormous Class 8 holding my screaming sister looks to Speaker Krim.
“Remove Representative Brathala and deliver her to her people’s embassy.” orders the woman with disgust “She is hereby censured for her outrageous breach of Parliamentary decorum in assaulting a fellow Representative!”
My sister is walked out of the chambre, held in the Jukt woman’s fist as she lopes out on her unoccupied three limbs.
All the way, Brathy screams “WHAT ARE YOU ALL WAITING FOR, COWARDS!? THE TERRAN BLED!!! I CUT HIM! THEY AREN’T INVINCIBLE! WE CAN KILL THEM IF WE JUST TRY!!! WHY AREN’T YOU DOING ANYTH…!?!?!?” before finally passing out of the range where her voice can be picked up by the microphones.
Already knowing the result of the vote, I don’t wait for things to resolve.
“Turn off the broadcast. Everyone out.” I order, stonily.
The feed is cut and I lean forward to rest my claws and head on the desk, my snout squashing as I press it into the surface, groaning.
I hear my advisors all muttering to eachother as they clear the room.
Stolen story; please report.
Gods! What now!?
I sit back up, only to realise I’m not alone.
“I said ‘everyone out’, Walath!” I admonish her.
“I don’t think so, Father… Our people’s Representative was just censured for attacking the Terrans’ on a live broadcast across the galaxy before calling for a resumption of the War while she was carried away! You need my advice on how to handle this… Otherwise, her actions might be viewed as a provocation and, based on that reaction, I don’t think the rest of the GU would have our backs(!)”
I sneer “I suppose you think the amount of your time you spend circumventing my galnet restrictions to consume Terran media or the ‘secret’ room you have, full of smuggled Terran goods (that I pretend not to know about), makes you an expert on Terrans then, do you(?)”
Clearly surprised, my daughter nonetheless holds her ground to answer “More of an expert than I think you’re likely to access without consulting the nearest ODR… which would be the one on Citadel…”
I puff humourlessly and sigh “Alright then, Walath… what do you suggest?”
---Bronal’s perspective---
I march down the corridor of my species’ embassy with two other burly knights behind me.
I’m able to hear the sounds of screaming and smashing emanating from our destination long in advance of reaching it.
I draw up to the large, ornate doors and pause for a moment before striding forward as they swing open.
The sight of a destroyed office greets me.
The woman I’m here for wheels around, her face crazed.
Not allowing myself to appear at all perturbed, I speak “Princess Brathala, you have been stripped of the Representativeship of the Battan people and are ordered to immediately return to Batta.”
She stands, staring at me, utterly stupefied for a few moments before scoffing “I am a princess! You do not have the authority to give me orders, let alone strip me of my office!!!”
Calmly, I state “Correct. However, I’m not acting on my own authority. My orders come directly from King Tratholt LXV of Batta and he does have that power. Your removal has been deemed a necessary measure for our species’ security.”
“Nonsense!” she sneers “My brother would never betray me like that!… Who would even be Representative if not me!?”
“Princess Walath will shortly be dispatched to replace you. She should arrive within the [week].” I relate, curtly.
“That Terranlover!? My treacherous niece?!” she shrieks “No! You’re lying!… Knights! ARREST this man for treason against the Battan Kingdom!”
“Your Highness…” I say, firmly “…I believe you have embarrassed our people enough for today. Do not add to it by forcing us to take you to the shuttlepad in a muzzle and restraints… Just come quietly and spare us all the last of our dignity.”
From the look in her eyes, I can tell she isn’t going to oblige me.
---Waqa’arc’s perspective---
I changed my mind.
I initially decided not to attend the celebration but, now, here I am…
However, as I step off the transport and onto the landingpad halfway up this ODR skypiercer, I’m beginning to think I might simply change my mind again and walk right back onto the craft I just disembarked.
Before I have the chance to act on that impulse however, I’m approached by two Terrans, covered shoulder to toe in black metal armour with only their heads being exposed, [handguns] mounted on their hips.
The brown eyed male is smiling. The red eyed, walking extinct female stares at me with unnerving blankness.
“Do you mind if I quickly check your devices, Ma’am?” smiles the male.
“No… Please go ahead, Officer.” I say, uncomfortably.
Without wasting a moment the man squats to examine the sash on my front.
“Ah, you’ll need an antibuffet too… It’s crowded in there and it’d be very easy for anyone not paying close attention to trample you. Winter, can you get her one?”
The unnerving woman wordlessly takes a few steps to the security kiosk and digs behind it before returning with the requested device, handing it to the man.
As he attaches it to my sash and activates it, he says “Now, we’re not going to tamperproof these, just request that you keep them all attached as well as activated while attending and then return this one before you leave, Ma’am.”
“Are you not going to check my identity?” I frown.
He chuckles and stands “No need!… We’ve known who you are since your capsule crossed the boundary of the compound, Officer Waqa’arc, 15th Daughter of Highspire Peak. Please enjoy the party, Ma’am!”
“Oh… I see…” I say, not sure why I’m surprised by Terran security’s sophistication.
As I walk away, I hear him enthusiastically greet the next arrival “Representative Hriko! Fashionably late I see(!)”
“I could never allow myself to appear unfashionable in your presence, Chén(!)… Are you going to treat me to a stop and frisk(?)” replies the Gothor woman, her tone (bafflingly) translated as flirtatious in spite of the wide gulf between their physiologies.
I cross the landingpad to reach the open doors to the crowded hall.
Anxiety swells within me as I pick my way through the throng, hearing the cacophony assault my ears!
I’m instantly glad of the device the Terran insisted I have, as large sturdy beings cavort around me yet find themselves unable to collide with me.
I’m not sure exactly where I’m headed… I suppose I’m hoping to run into Tcakqaal and her lifemate but, seeing just how crowded this enormous room is, I doubt I’ll find them without either taking wing or calling them… both of which I would find too embarrassing.
I begin to wish again that I had stayed on the ship with Akrat when I hear someone call my name.
I turn, my expression bemused, to see a tall, slim, bearded Terran with purple eyes and a patch on his right cheek, under which I know is a fresh claw wound.
He enthusiastically beckons me over to where he sits with five other Terrans and a Tythii.
I approach the group, unsure exactly why the Terran Representative might be hailing me?
I’ve never met the man, unless you count at the Special Council where we sat in the same room?
“Uhm… Hello Representative?” I greet.
“Waqa’arc, 15th Daughter of Highspire Peak!” grins the man with the facewound “It’s a privilege! I was so hoping you would come!”
“You were?”
“Absolutely! I don’t think it’s an exaggeration to say this party very well might not be happening without you!” he smiles “Everyone, this is the R’qali who clinched the Special Council vote for us! Waqa’arc, this is Nirina ‘Orchid’ Rain, my wife, Vahatra ‘Purple’ Rain, my daughter, Wynythil of the Dancing Reeds, my daughter-in-law, Admiral Sindisiwe ‘Roar’ Ledwaba, her husband Vice Admiral Aaron ‘Triple C’ Friedman and their daughter Khanya ‘Quiet’ Friedman… and, of course, myself, Ndum ‘Lemur’ Rain.”
All of them nod their heads in acknowledgement as he names them until he gets to himself.
“I see…” I say uncertainly “…it’s a pleasure?”
“No, Ma’am! The pleasure is ours!… Please, sit with us! The Admiral and Vice Admiral here are likely going to be deployed to Graom-Wakhkort soon, perhaps you could share some of your insights with them?”
---Victor’s perspective---
I frown as I see Waqa’arc walking through the crowd, seeming dazed.
I actually have to spend a few moments wondering if this might just be another R’qali who’s a dead ringer for her but, ultimately, decide I had it right the first time.
I stride up to her and she doesn’t seem to notice me.
“Oi, Waqa’arc…?”
She turns to look up at me but doesn’t answer.
“What’s happenin’?… Thought you weren’t comin’?”
Seeming almost (but not quite) drunk she answers “Well… I decided to come… I came… I talked to Representative Rain… he offered me a job?”
“He offered you a job? What job?” I frown.
“The new head of the ODR on R’qal?” she asks more than tells, like she’s not sure herself.
“Oh… Congrats?”