Chapter 28: Stowaway
August 22, 2227.
Ezra and Jaral couldn't get rid of the feeling that their father was in grave danger, but there was no way to confirm it.
Right now, they had to worry about another fight: defending the Jedi volunteers that were rushing through the hail of blaster bolts to rescue the screaming wounded of both sides.
As Ezra spotted two Abednedo in their orange suit rushing among the field of bodies, he also noticed that two groups of rebels and imperials were firing at each other right where the paramedics were heading.
Ezra dashed there and stood over the wounded, an imperial and a republican, and quickly deflected away a few bolts that risked hitting the rescuers. Seeing him towering over that area, clearly intent on stopping both sides from taking more lives, the foes redirected their shots. Ezra, on the other hand, ducked so he could help drag the victims in a safer position.
"We got them, Master. Thanks." one of the aliens said gratefully.
Ezra nodded and rushed back to the battle. He found Jaral still parrying blows at the forefront of the republican line, while the imperials were falling back after taking too many casualties.
"Cease fire!" a Republic officer ordered once all of the imperial survivors had already turned around: no need to waste more tibanna or to continue the massacre.
At that point, Ezra sent an all-clear message to Dhara, who showed up minutes later with a whole crew of medics and rescuers, beginning their grim and extremely admirable work while the Jedi took a breather.
Although, taking a breather in that room was quite just a metaphor: in reality, the stench of blaster-burned bodies was suffocating. Among the many things that made fighting such a large battle aboard a space station, the smell had to be one of the worst consequences. With so many people inside a single section, the ventilation system struggled to clean and recycle the air. To that, it had to be added the stink of explosives and charred durasteel all around, a mixture that, despite several days spent there, the Jedi were still not used to.
They sat at a corner of the republican line and both sighed exhausted as they dematerialized their armors. They stayed silent, for a brief moment. They both felt in need of expressing their thoughts loudly, so after searching for the right words, Jaral spoke first.
"What are we doing here?"
Just a few days before, Ezra wouldn't have hesitated to reply. Now, he did.
"We're helping."
"To do what? The Republic has already evacuated the shipyards. It's their Command that decided to keep this soldiers here to die." she replied coldly.
"Because they have a plan. You should know that better than me."
"I get it. And I'm sure Ackbar and the other thought this through, it's just...I don't know...they just decided that the best way to divert the imperials, was to lure them into this slaughterhouse."
Ezra didn't reply. Deep down, he detested the strategy of the Republic, too. And with the ever-growing feeling that their father might be in some grave danger, was this plan even working? He couldn't even reach Luke through telepathy, since his Padawan seemed to have willingly blocked his mind. A sign that he might need to hide, as well.
And the news from Ahsoka, Kota and the other major Jedi were not encouraging: their continued investigation clearly revealed that the half of the Empire still under Palpatine's control was putting all its gears toward the construction of the Death Star II, as the Order had nicknamed it.
For sure, they had considerably less resources than when they built the first one, but they had the knowledge and the core of the galactic economy to support it. In order to stop it, staying on Ringo Vinda seemed beneath them.
"Honestly, after seeing all of this…" he said, taking a moment to look toward the killing field. "I just can't imagine abandoning these guys here. Leaving while they still have to fight and die on this stripped, cold shell…"
Jaral didn't reply. She suddenly felt a biting remorse. How could she, with her history, think of abandoning those soldiers who were going through a living hell? Yet, the reason of why she wanted to leave was so clear, that there was no use hiding it.
"I miss Samira." she mumbled as she huddled up in her seated position, as if she felt incredibly vulnerable just by saying it.
Ezra felt struck deeply. Immediately he was reminded of Sabine and that he hadn't called her in a while. A surge of nostalgia seemed to storm his heart and he didn't know how to reply to that.
"Excuse us, Masters." a voice said, snapping the Jedi out of their misery.
They looked up and saw that it was a Human Sergeant who spoke up. He and his platoon had their rations at the ready and looked at them with a mixture of timidness, admiration but also camaraderie.
"Would you mind if we seat next to you?" he continued gently.
The siblings shook their heads. "Not at all. This space is for everyone." Jaral replied, hiding her melancholy as much as she could.
"Thank you. All right, boys, settle down." the man instructed.
The platoon, made up of a mixture of different species, sat on the floor, then removed helmets and gloves, setting them aside before opening their rations with a certain haste.
That reminded the siblings that they were pretty hungry, as well, so they whipped out one of their packs out of their omni-tools and started eating.
"You going on field rations, too?" one of the soldiers asked with a joking tone.
The siblings smirked. "It's not like we are picky." Ezra replied in kind.
"And it wouldn't be fair to you guys, if we had better food, don't you think?" Jaral added.
"Maybe you could've shared it." another soldier joked. "These things all taste the same."
"I don't mind the biscuits." somebody else added.
"Screw the biscuits. You guys remember the rations we were given by the Alliance? Why can't the Republic give us something like that?"
"I'm sorry the state can't satisfy your mouth, Kendof." the Sergeant returned sarcastically.
"Wait, how long have you guys been in the Army?" Jaral asked, surprised by Kendof's question.
Ezra also took a moment to look at their faces: the Sergeant was well into his 30, and most of the other soldiers were nearing that age. Also, their attitude, relatively relaxed despite the situation, suggested that they were not rookies.
"I'm from Mykapo, ma'am." the Sergeant replied. "When you got us out of there and into the Milky Way, I volunteered for the army that the Federation was training for us." he then gestured toward the others with his fork. "Most of this folk came to the Milky Way or ventured through our galaxy to join the Rebellion right after you two liberated Lothal. Aside from Medri over there, all of us have been fighting since Mon Calamari."
The siblings were quite surprised. They met so many different soldiers, that they barely had the time to think that, aside from Rex, there were many others who had been fighting the Empire as long as them, if not longer.
"Where are you all guys from?" Ezra asked as he chowed a bite.
"Balsat IV."
"Drongar."
"Seleucami."
"Emmer."
"Khar Delba."
"Daluba."
"Voss."
Other soldiers were more distant and were not really participating to that part of the conversation.
"I suppose we don't need to say where we are from." Jaral joked, and the others chuckled.
The atmosphere softened up even more, and as most of the soldiers finished their meals, the Jedi took some time to make conversation with the soldiers. For how much they proclaimed that they were fighting to rid the galaxy of the Sith, they realized that they had never taken much time to learn how the common folk of the galaxy thought and behaved in regard to the war. And besides, they needed to vent out their worries with people who were risking their lives on that ring and also had dreams and families back home.
It was incredible to find out just how easy it was to hide aboard a Star Destroyer: those ships were so large, that despite the large crew, many sections were unguarded. Good thing that Luke had learned much of the art of sneaking around from Ezra.
Of course, he couldn't just keep hiding forever. The imperials knew he was somewhere around there, and with a Force-sensitive hunter like Mara, it was only a matter of time before they found him.
So, the only thing to do was to let himself be found on his terms.
It was night shift on the Destroyer, as he had just heard several stormtroopers being dismissed, so Luke crawled through the vents toward the level of the barracks. He found just the grating he needed and calmly moved it away with a pull of his new hand. Then he jumped down.
It was a lodging destined to one person, meaning a high-ranking officer. Except that Luke had observed the crew for the last two days and knew who he could expect to enter as the Force warned him.
Quickly, he took out his blaster pistol and went to flatten himself to the wall next to the door.
Said door then opened, and Mara came in, giving her back to him.
As soon as the door closed, Luke took a silent step. Mara stopped, clearly feeling that something was off, but it was too late for her: the moment she turned around with her own blaster, Luke was ready to grab it and yank it out of her hands before pointing his own pistol at her temple.
"Not. A. Word." he said in the clearest way possible.
Mara showed half of her disgruntled face, but she still rose her hands and turned around to surrender.
"It's not easy for anyone to hide their Force presence from me. I must commend you." she said with a calm voice.
"Thanks. Now, you can either bring me to my friends and help me get them out of here, or I shoot you and I do that myself." he replied sternly.
"You'd kill an unarmed foe? Your Master would be mostly disappointed."
"I don't want to hurt you. But if you leave me no other choice, then I will."
Mara still seemed skeptic, but not eager to test Luke's resolve.
"You will only find the psionic and the woman in the brig." she said.
"What? Where is Jordan?"
"Transferred to a facility down on Eriadu. They're trying to get his Spectre codes out of him. His two brethren are here for leverage." Mara coldly explained.
That news was a blow to Luke's plan, but nonetheless, he could still save Thabo and Michalina.
"All right, then. Let's take a walk."
"In the middle of a Star Destroyer? Sure, be my guest." she replied sarcastically.
In response, Luke activated his omni-tool and projected himself as another stormtrooper.
"Oh...right."
With that, Luke forced her to walk out in the desert corridor. By using secondary paths and elevators, it wasn't that difficult to evade the patrols, which Luke had already memorized in the last few days. Once they reached the brig, Mara led Luke to the only occupied cell of the ship.
In there, Thabo and Michalina were still wearing their fatigues. The psionic was clearly meditating while the woman was sitting on her bench in a more apprehensive mood. However, as soon as she heard footsteps halting in front of her, she rose her head and jumped on her feet when she saw the Jedi.
"Luke."
Thabo also opened his eyes and instead spoke as if he was already expecting him to arrive. "Took you long enough." he joked.
"I needed a friend to do this." Luke replied in tone, then pushed the button to open the cell while keeping Mara's back at gunpoint.
The Legionnaires stepped out, and Luke materialized something from his omni-tool.
"Here. Thought you might need them."
The first real part of his plan had been to sneak into the Destroyer's warehouse and take back the triggers of their armors, as they were by far the most powerful piece of equipment of the Legionnaires.
"You are a real wizard, kid." Michalina joked as she and Thabo grabbed their devices, put them back on their chest and finally reentered their armors.
"We need to get Jordan back." Thabo said.
Unfortunately, Luke had to cut that optimism. "He has already been transferred to Eriadu. Our priority right now is to get out of here."
The Legionnaires were clearly upset by that news, but they realized that there was little they could do.
"What about her?" Michalina asked. "I doubt she'll stay quiet all the way to the hangar."
"Well...a cell just freed up." Luke ironically explained.
Mara sneered. "One day, I'll be on the other side of that blaster."
"Maybe. For now, you'll have some time to reflect on how you're wasting your life serving someone who doesn't care about you in the slightest."
Mara sent darts with her eyes, but she still entered the cell and Luke closed the door again. Between the lack of a communicator and the soundproof doors, it would have taken a while before someone would find her. Presumably long enough for the three stowaways to steal a shuttle and make a run for it.
The hour was really quiet: most of the crew had gone sleeping, and some corridors would be patrolled only once in many hours. As they walked through them, and after looting a nearby armory to give something to the Legionnaires, Luke had a question.
"Hey, Mara said the imperials are trying to extort Jordan's Spectre codes. How bad is it?"
"At this point? Not much, since Command must have realized what happened to us." Michalina explained.
"If a Spectre is presumed captured, provided that Admiral Edrix has managed to send an alert to the Federation, the Council will suspend the codes associated with said Spectre. But nonetheless, Jordan knows many things and we should make sure to get him out quickly." Thabo added.
"First, let's get back to the fleet. I'm sure we're not the only ones who want him back." Luke reassured.
With the due caution, the trio managed to reach the hangar, where aside from the TIEs hanging from the roof, there were three Lambda shuttles ready for departure on the first slots. All that was left was to distract the total of six guards. Because Thabo and Michalina had regained their cloaking devices, but Luke didn't have that luxury.
So he made the only sensible decision: he used the Force to push down a crate on the side of the hangar.
Immediately, all the guards turned that way. After all, they were still on high alert knowing that Luke was around somewhere, so they thought they had found him.
"Call reinforcements!" one of them rashly said as he and his companions moved to surround the position.
After that, the trio easily ran into the shuttle on slot one and Luke reached the commands.
"Do you know how to fly this?" Michalina asked.
"Hey, I can fly everything." Luke replied proudly, though his claim was more than justified.
The engines turned on, immediately alerting the guards, who needed only a few seconds to realize what was going on. They tried to dash for the shuttle, but the vehicle needed only a moment to rise from the ground, so all they can do was to fire with their rifles and gain nothing except venting out some frustration before they alerted the bridge.
"Allow me…" Thabo said as he sat on the co-pilot seat and put his hands on the control panel.
A few seconds later, Luke noticed a large psionic sphere forming around the shuttle as a shield.
"Woah, how do you do that?" he asked impressed.
"Ask him later, go!" Michalina snapped.
Thabo was also completely focused on keeping up that barrier, since it would've been a matter of seconds before the imperial fleet react, however they were still in time to get far enough to escape the tractor beam of the Duster.
Of course, getting out of range of the turbolasers was a different matter, as the Star Destroyer opening fire showed.
"Try to pass through their frigates. That should give us some cover." Michalina suggested.
Luke listened and sped through a couple of Gozanti and smaller frigates. However, it seemed like these imperials cared little for friendly fire, as the Duster kept firing indiscriminately and even blew up two of those vessels, and even failed to stop the shuttle.
The few shots that Luke didn't dodge were easily repelled by Thabo's barrier, and when they finally were out of the gravitational pull of Eriadu, the Jedi punched the button and they finally entered hyperspace.
August 23, 2227.
"Jinx...how long has it been?" Jordan asked tiredly.
"82 hours, Jordan." the AI replied coldly, but with some kind of melancholic note in the background.
The Legionnaire sighed. "Then it's almost time. We've already been way too lucky that they didn't notice you."
"I know."
Jordan felt a little spike of pain under the right eye, where one of the interrogators had punched him until a few minutes before. But that was just a disturbance compared to the thought of what he was about to do.
If captured, any soldier of the Systems Alliance possessing an AI was supposed to wipe it out if there was the risk of the machine falling into the hands of an enemy nation. So far, it seemed like Verge and his retinue were quite oblivious on the subject of the portable AIs, but the Prelate had just mentioned that Darth Vader was on his way to join the interrogation. And he wasn't going to ignore it. Perhaps he was even going to scold Verge for his ignorance, but that was a meager consolation.
All of this meant that Jordan had to wipe out the two processors he had with him. He was going to wipe out a third of Jinx's consciousness, thus shortening the operative life of the rest of its consciousness. With that, Ezra and Jaral were going to receive the clear sign that he was a prisoner, and they would lose their part of Jinx in maybe a month or so.
Jordan closed his eyes. A grimace of sad pain appeared on his face and he lowered his head so the cell's camera wouldn't get too much of a glimpse of that.
Him and Jinx had been together for more than twenty years. Ever since Jordan embarked on that exploratory vessel that would eventually crash him into Andromeda. Jinx was the one who had guarded over his children while he was toiling in an imperial prison camp, and his only reminder of the Milky Way.
The mere thought of being forced to kill the AI was worst than any torture, but there was no way out of it.
"Jinx...enact Neva Protocol."
"Affirmative...it has been an honor, Captain Bridger." the AI solemnly replied.
"Me too, mate. Happy trip in the meta." Jordan said, trying to lighten his mood with a joke.
The processors suddenly whirred at full force for a few seconds, then they shut down just as suddenly. They fell from the omni-tool and to the ground, burning as the self-destruction device vaporized them, bursting out like two fireflies.
Jordan just somberly sat there, as the weight of the gesture fell on his heart.
He didn't know exactly how long he stared emptily in front of him before the door hissed open. He turned around and spotted Vader.
The Sith entered with a stormy pace, extended his hand and pulled Jordan's left arm into said hand with the Force. The Legionnaire was completely powerless to stop it, and he realized it. For the first time since forever, he felt a clear uneasiness in his heart.
Vader quickly analyzed his arm. Jordan wondered if he was able to use psychometry to understand what had just happened, or perhaps he was already reading his mind.
Then he grunted in frustration and pulled away the Legionnaire's arm.
"He has just destroyed his AI." Vader sentenced.
On the door there was also Verge, accompanied by some of his staff officers, and the Prelate's expression was that of a horrified surprise, the one of someone who just realized he had made a grave mistake of some kind.
"But...but...since when do they have AIs on their bodies?!"
Vader made a breathing that sounded more angry than usual. "We will discuss your negligence at a later date, Prelate." he said with his ominous tone. "Now, there is a Jedi among the enemy fleet that has my personal interest. His moral conduct will force him to come here and try to save this prisoner. We must be ready for that." the Sith said as he started walking outside the cell.
The imperial officers quickly stepped aside and let him leave out with a fastened pace, then Verge looked again toward Jordan, who stared back emotionless.
"A real pity, Captain. I was hoping to use you for a prisoner exchange, but since you hid something so important from me…"
"Spare me your edge-lord's bullshit, mate. If you want to kill me, I suggest you do it now, because the more you wait, the more likely is that I will be back to be a pain in your imperial ass." the Legionnaire replied firmly.
Verge pointed a finger. "Mind your words, Captain, because I might take you seriously. Luckily for you, Lord Vader wants you alive as a bait."
"Then he'll find out that the fish he's trying to catch has become much bigger." Jordan somberly concluded before slumping back on his bench, ignoring the imperials completely.
Verge grunted and stepped outside, closing the cell door once again.
As Jaral and Ezra clashed their swords against the Astartes, their HUD suddenly stuttered. Not that they payed much attention to it anymore, since they relied mostly on the Force during their battles, but it still alarmed them.
However they had to back off as Starkiller descended on them with a jumping attack that tried to slice Ezra in two.
Despite the numerical inferiority, the siblings still had the enormous advantage given by their Force bond. While the Astartes and Starkiller fought quite well together, they were nowhere near to a level of coordination like that of the Bridgers.
Meanwhile, fighting between the Republic and the Empire was raging around them. The imperials were storming another section that was particularly large, giving enough room for the saber wielders to fight their duel in the midst of a blaster rain.
Ezra found himself fending off an assault from the Sith assassin, which he parried with relative ease. He then realized that Jaral was only fighting Morit alone, and it didn't take long before he realized, by pure instinct, that Morit was about to strike him on his left side.
With a velocity that he didn't even know to have, Ezra quickly rose the directional shield of his omni-tool and made a step on the side while lowering a little. That made sure that the female twin landed out of balance and he could easily flip her over his head.
Starkiller then barged forward again, but this time he didn't push his luck: he genuinely made sure to keep Ezra busy while Aiolin regained her footing.
It didn't matter much, though, because Jaral managed to gain the upper hand against Morit and grazed his shoulder with her lightsaber, making him grunt in pain.
His sister quickly intervened to defend him, but it quickly became apparent that the three imperial warriors were at a disadvantage, now that one of them was wounded.
On the other hand, the imperial charge was going nowhere. It was the grim routine of that long, grueling battle: the imperial would try to take a new section of the ring, fail, learn from their mistakes, then go back at it again and generally win, but not without heavy casualties.
It was also to be remembered, however, that the Republic was simply buying time for the offensive on Sullust, meaning that they were inclined to give up some ground so that the imperial hierarchy would be convinced of winning, eventually, thus keeping their energies focused on that endeavor.
That didn't cancel the fact that the defenders, too, were paying a heavy toll. Dhara said that the hospital of the Order was constantly overcrowded, and no less than a third of the wounded were Republic soldiers and officers. The body count on both sides was hard to make, given that some disappeared after a grenade or a missile exploded right below their feet. Yet, the Republic so far had confirmed the death of over 230.000 men. All in just a month and a half.
Once again, as the small field of battle was covered in dead and wounded, with their three main combatants unable to break the Jedi, the Empire pulled back.
Left standing on their own among the bodies of young imperials and republicans alike, the Jedi sighed fatigued and dematerialized their armors. After letting the troopers make a sweep and calling in the rescuers to help whatever soul left alive on the battlefield, Ezra and Jaral went to a secluded angle.
"Jinx, is everything ok?" she asked.
The AI showed up its holographic avatar, and that stuttered a lot before stabilizing on a single color.
"Negative. I suffered a catastrophic data and power loss. I believe Jordan has erased his two processors of me."
It they needed confirmation of their recent worries, there it was: there was only one reason that could force their father to destroy part of his AI and spell its fate.
They looked at each other with a worried and resigned expression.
"You really have no idea where he could be?" Ezra asked, even though he already knew the answer.
"Negative. I detected the sudden cutting of my matrix, but my processors were too distant to establish a connection."
Ezra pondered, then he decided what to do. "That's it, I'll try to reach Luke."
After saying that, he sat down on the floor, assumed his meditating pose and focused all his mental energy into the shared bond with his Padawan. It took him some effort to 'knock' on Luke's mind, but eventually he replied.
"Ezra."
"Luke. What's going on there?"
"I'm sorry, Ezra. But your father has been captured."
After Luke explained what had recently happened, Ezra explained what just occurred to Jinx.
"If he has erased him, then he must be really in trouble."
"I'm sorry, Ezra, but I promise: we will take him back."
"I appreciate the thought, Luke, but your priority is still Sullust. The people of that planet can't wait anymore. Try to rescue my father only if there is a real chance."
"I understand." Luke replied calmly. A maturity that surprised Ezra.
They closed the bond shortly later. Jaral was already listening, since her brother was passing the conversation into her mind, as well. She looked much more apprehensive.
"By the Force. Even dad has been captured?"
"Yes. But there's one thing I'm certain about."
"What?"
"That I trust Luke completely."
August 25, 2227.
"This is complete madness." the mp shouted from the right wing of the assembly. "Accepting these communists in the UACT will only bring subversion and chaos to the Federation."
The one speaking was none other than Urcinus Richerius. Despite his loss in the last elections, his faction still held sway over a consistent number of deputies at the Parliament, and was now making a vehement stand against the recent request of the Terminus Commune to join the UACT as an associate member.
The old Turian went on for a couple minutes more, making a list of all terrible scenarios that, in the mind of his corporate backers, any cooperation with the Commune would cause.
While everybody knew that the position of the wannabe oligarchs was just the result of paranoia of the rich, there were still other minor factions that believed it was too early to accept the Commune, for they still didn't know enough about this new nation.
On the other hand, the New Republic and the members in Andromeda had already given their blessing with this association, since they were in desperate need of finding allies as the imperial offensive kept grinding through their numbers. The only member of the alliance who had to ratify the accord with the Commune was the Federation.
This wasn't even about letting the Commune into the UACT and drag it into the war against the Empire: it was a simple economical and scientific cooperation with the future perspective of the Terminus state eventually joining completely.
Once Richerius was done, another deputy stood up, but on the opposite side of the assembly. It was a Salarian belonging to the Movement for Equality and Justice, the faction to which the new Prime Minister, Roxa T'Quri, was part of.
"The honorable Richerius forgets that it was the same people who generously funds his bank account who exploited the people of the Terminus and brought them to become, as he says, 'communists'."
Already the allies of Richerius started throwing a fit, yelling slurs at their opponent.
"Order!" the speaker, a male Krogan, yelled, slamming his little hammer on the table that was right beneath Francesco's seat.
Those who were out of turn sat back down and allowed their foe to finish.
"If we refuse the membership of the Commune, not only we will make an unjustified wrong to them, but we will plant the seeds of mistrust. Though I presume your fat bellies rejoice at any occasion to spread conflict wherever you see a chance."
Once again, the representatives of the Security and Business Bloc threw a fit of rage, protesting and demanding an apology.
Francesco sighed silently. Not only he hated these scenes, but the FEM deputy was completely right: the sponsors of the SBC were the major private weapon industries, who would have profited even more from a war between the Federation and the Commune, be it direct or indirect.
After a few heated moments, the speaker ordered a pause of the assembly, so that everyone could recollect their thoughts and, most importantly, their manners. He also announced that, by the end of the day, a vote on the matter at hand would have to be reached.
Francesco thus headed for the nearby office, the one reserved to him and the government working in his name. There he was quickly joined by Roxa and the rest of the cabinet.
"How is it possible that people like him even get enough votes to enter the Parliament?" one of the ministers commented frustrated.
"By feeding the fear of the people." Roxa replied calmly. "Decades of peace have not prepared us for two wars of such scale."
"All the more reasons to do everything we can to make this motion pass." Francesco said from his seat at the head of the table.
The cabinet took their seats. Roxa went on the right of the Emperor.
"We agree with you, my lord, but it's clear that there are many who are undecided." she reported.
"Yes, I saw their faces."
The door hissed open again, letting in the most trusted advisor of the monarch.
"Ani." Francesco greeted.
"The assembly was pretty fire, today, uh?" his sister joked as she headed for the seat reserved for her at the left of Francesco.
"Unfortunately, yes. When we should be all in agreement that this treaty is vital." he replied discouraged.
A short silence fell. While everyone tried to think of a solution to propose, Roxa firmly put her elbows on the table and spoke clearly. "Then you should tell that to the Parliament, sir."
Francesco was expecting such a response, though he would have preferred not to. He kept his composure while Roxa doubled down.
"You said it yourself: we can't allow some greedy fucks to ruin our best chance for a long-lasting peace. If you use your right to make a speech before the vote, those who hesitate will surely lean toward our side."
Francesco didn't reply. He knew it was a good idea, but he didn't feel like he had the strength to do that. He stared at his intertwined fingers as if they could have the answer.
"I'll think about it." was all he said. "In the meantime, I suggest you gentlemen go outside and try to sway anyone you can."
The politicians agreed with that proposal and quickly left, leaving the royals alone.
"Ani, would you mind helping me with a couple rehearsals?" Francesco calmly asked his sister.
She smirked. "Show me what you got."
An hour passed and the assembly was recalled. There was only time for a couple more interventions before the Speaker declared that it was time for the vote.
"Before we start, does His Majesty wish to express his opinion on the matter?" the Krogan said with his powerful voice.
All gazes went toward him. Francesco made a mental sigh and stood up in a calm manner.
He took a moment to recollect the concepts he had expressed with Anastasia, cleared his voice and finally began.
"Honorable members. I speak to you not as your Emperor, but as a man. A simple man, who just recently witnessed the birth of his daughter and has had some time to think about the future in which I want my children to live.
"Ever since the foundation of the Citadel Council, since the beginning of recorded star history of our cycle, our galaxy has always been split in two. Most of us have been brought up to think, that the galaxy is divided between our side and the Terminus. Between a supposed civilization and the lawless barbarity.
"It is this aspect, that I think we should focus today. I believe that many of you are scared, uncertain, because barely a year ago, the most adamant cultural tenet of our galaxy has been completely brought down: the people of the Terminus, that most of us used to consider as a mob of rump states and pirates, have actually rose from their difficulties and have formed a solid government to ensure their stability and peace.
"In the last 40 years, since the end of the Reaper War, our Federation has stood strong as a beacon of order among a universe of anarchy. All those who stood against us stood no chance, and we even integrated new species among us. We believed that the galaxy was our for the taking, that we were the pinnacle of life.
"Then, the wormhole opened up. Suddenly, we found ourselves thrust into a war against an enemy that, although strong, is also very far from our borders. I think that was the moment when many of us started reconsidering everything.
"But since we realized we were wrong, then it's imperative that act as the civilized people we always assumed we are. It is up to us to decide whether we give in to fear and start solving our problems with violence and terror, or whether we do the one thing that has kept the Federation growing and prospering throughout the millennia: we extend a hand to the others."
A brief murmur crossed the assembly. With a bit of relief, Francesco realized that his words were having the effect he wanted. He decided thus to leave it there, for he believed that saying anything more could have him accused of overstepping his authority. He nodded to the Speaker, who nodded back and turned around.
"Thank you, Your Majesty. Is this Parliament ready to cast a vote?"
No objection came, so the Speaker lit up his computer and quickly shared the question on the internal network of the room. The question arrived to all the members, who lit up their omni-tools and quietly cast their votes in secrecy.
A minute later, the large screen on the side of the hall showed the votes. There was a total of 1100 members, since the Tau Empire had become a Constituent State nearly six months before.
The vote wasn't even close.
"With 983 votes against 117, the motion passes."
A round of applause filled the hall. Francesco simply sighed in relief, and perhaps a little bit of pride.
With that vote, negotiations between the UACT members and the Terminus Commune could finally begin.