by C. C. Ekeke
More applause sounded from the assembly. “The Amalgam is a pooling of GUPR and Kedri resources to make a mobile battle station that also serves as a living community. Here we can start the first step in having Kedri and Union citizens living together and understanding each other. A bridge, if you will, between two of this galaxy’s preeminent hyperpowers.” The Kedri paused to slip a tiny datacard into the console under his sonor-amp. A quick tapping of the console activated the floor podium’s TriTran, a small rod rising in front of Biros’ dais.
In nanoclics, light pulsed from the rod’s tip, followed by a huge 3-D image that sent a ripple of surprised exclamations through the Senate Chamber. The Amalgam, or at least its blue hologram equivalent, was spectacular to the eyes. The station’s main body was smooth, shaped like a globe that had to be the size of a small moon. A single, wide cylinder jutted off the globe’s North and South poles. Obsidian in hue, this sphere was wreathed in a pair of rings slowly rotating around the main sphere. The Kedri influence in Amalgam was obvious, as noted in its colossal size and surfeit of weaponry. But the simplicity in its design and the basic patterns incised all along the hull, spoke fluently of Union crafting.
Biros folded his arms across his massive chest, wearing an expression akin to contentment. “I will send a diagram to all in this chamber. Its weaponry is also a mixture of Kedri and Union technology. The station’s mobility allows it to reach the most basic of FTL speeds, but we’re working on improving that as time progresses. This is just the first of many joint efforts between my Imperium and the Union.”
The applause was much louder and more enthusiastic this time. Biros acknowledged this by raising his massive hand at the crowd. Bogosian sighed and relaxed in his seat. This could work after all.
Morje’Huijadan spotted another inquiry. “The Senate recognizes Hechnod Eightronic, Senator of Ferronos Arietis, to speak.”
Biros snapped his head in the Thulican’s direction. Surprise briefly contorted his face. “I thought my diagram and speech answered any inquiries.”
Bogosian stood and motioned Biros over. “That’s not how it works, Biros,” he whispered, away from the sonor-amp so no one else would hear. “These Senators are representing their planets and just want to know about all aspects of this deal.” As Biros nodded in understanding he returned to his seat.
“Yes, Senator,” Biros gestured in Hechnod’s direction.
The Thulican Senator rose from his divan seat. Standing just over five feet, the gold and white sheen of Hechnod’s metal skin gave him the semblance of a petite mechanoid instead of a technologically-based organism or technorg. Despite Hechnod opposing the merger, Bogosian had always found the staunch Technocrat open-minded if the logic was sound. “Greetings, Primary Potentiary,” the Thulican’s voice had an electronic resonance. “Will mainly Kedri operate Amalgam or a mix of Union citizens and Kedri?”
Biros gripped the podium, his massive hands almost enveloping it. “Given that the Kedri designed it, of course we will have a predominant presence in its operation. But as time goes on, as agreed in the Amalgam’s charter, we will instruct Union workers and ease their presence onto the station.”
“Why am I not surprised?”
Biros frowned. Everyone in the Senate turned to the voice, or gurgle. Morje’s skin turned a tinge of bright green. “Careful, Senator,” his words took a warning edge.
“I think not Vice-Chouncilor. Not on this issue.” Mre Guilloche was back on his tentacles, black bulging orbs fixated on Biros. The floating viewscreens captured his ire. No doubt he was looking for a fight after his earlier rebuke. “A typical Kedri tactic, isn’t it? I’m well informed on how the Imperium sequesters new races. Show them your power and scare them into submission. If they don’t bend to your hostile pomposity, you pound them into submission until they hail your Sovereign.”
“Senator Guilloche—,” Morje attempted to stop him.
Guilloche continued like he didn’t hear. “Only this time, you bring in a weapon masked as a gift. You have used that ploy before, haven’t you?” His gaze left the Kedri and scoured the Chamber in sharp sweeps. “After the Kedri conquer us, the only thing they’ll be teaching us is how to cook their food!”
“Guilloche, enough!” Bogosian barked in iron tones, on his feet and furious. He knew what Guilloche was playing at. Piss Biros off enough and the Senators would see a Kedri’s explosive temper firsthand, or worse that frightening ‘battle frenzy’ Kedri warriors were renowned for.
“As you wish…Chouncilor,” Guilloche oozed back into his seat. The outburst left the chambers buzzing, with agreeing croons flowing among the legislators. Bogosian struggled not to appear appalled.
“Worry not, Chouncilor. He is not the first to doubt the Imperium’s intentions,” Biros boomed. Bogosian silently thanked the Maker that the Kedri showed no hint of annoyance. “Yes, the Kedri are a warrior race. War is what our culture is built on. Yes, we have conquered others to broaden the reach of our glorious civilization for over a millennium,” Biros stated, more out of competence than arrogance. “But that has nothing to do with this alliance. We Kedri are capable of peace and change.”
“The Senate shall recognize Jushin Sakoda, Senator of Terra Sollus,” Morje boomed.
Jushin Sakoda stood from his divan, an average-height human in prim and proper garments. Another senator that Ari enjoyed working with. “You say your warlike habits have nothing to do with this alliance,” he eyed Biros with clear skepticism. “Yet tensions still endure near the demilitarized zone bordering our two realms. How will the Kedri way of life not threaten the Galactic Union way of life?”
“If the Imperium wasn’t open to change, I wouldn’t have cast aside my warmaster armor and be standing here today.” Biros gripped the podium as he spoke. “I swear on the honor of my house and more importantly, that of my Sovereign, Orok of House Kel himself, that we will respect this alliance.”
Jushin nodded appreciatively and returned to his seat. This quieted many, even the most critical. There were murmurs, mostly agreeing with Biros. Bogosian leaned back in his seat and smiled. Good job Biros. Bogosian surveyed the Chambers with a swell of pride. Guilloche looked very disappointed.
“If your house’s honor comes in the form of our extinction, then it won’t mean much, will it?”
A collective gasp resounded throughout the Chambers as everyone turned to view the author of that statement—even Guilloche. It came from Gnu Hedoshe of Rhomera, standing next to Guilloche. The latter yanked Hedoshe back into his seat, for even he knew Hedoshe had gone too far. Everyone then dared to look at Biros. The Kedri clenched the podium so tightly, it seemed as if he might rip the object from its moorings. Bogosian felt his heart skip a beat when he saw Biros’ eyes blaze with such hate—enough hate to tear Hedoshe tentacle from tentacle. Insulting a Kedri’s honor, which every member of that race held dear, usually called for a duel or got the insulter killed on the spot. Sounds of bated breath rustled across the hushed chamber. Everyone waited. Would Biros Nor would lose his temper on the Senate floor?
The towering Kedri wildly drank up every profile in the hushed Senate Chamber. He then released the podium from his inflexible grip, the bony protrusions around his jaw bristle with displeasure for all to see. “I should expect this from sentients who proudly enslaved the natives of this world.”
Bogosian’s jaw dropped. His reply got drowned under the deafening eruption from the entire Senate.
A tumultuous sea of legislators swelled in front of Biros Nor, Bogosian and Morje’Huijadan. Some screamed furiously in Standard, others in their native tongues. All directed at the Kedri.
“Order! We must have order!” Morje repeated over and over again, but to no avail.
Biros stood at the podium, speechless. More insults flew across the room like grenasers. Soon most Senators lost interest in him, swept back up in their own squabbles and power struggles.
“ORDER!” Morje demanded. The turmoil only increased. This had spiraled way out of his control.
With a sad heart, Chouncilor Bogosian cast a dispassionate gaze over the swell of squabbling before him. This wasn’t new behavior. But seeing it take place in front of a representative from another star-spanning government was just embarrassing. These were the representatives of the Union he was supposed to be proud to lead, these were supposed to be the best this Union had to offer.
But it was this behavior that laid bare all the reasons why Bogosian wouldn’t run for a third term. And that thought struck a painful chord inside him.
“Order!” Morje boomed again and again, shouting this several more times before the Senate Chambers finally quieted down. The Chouncilor dismissed the Senate session early, not wanting to be in the same room with those Senators any longer. But it wasn’t just them he had issue with.
“That statement was uncalled for, Biros,” Bogosian said curtly, now in the back of his hoverlimo. The interior of the limo was a mixture of taupe kurokoos-hide seating, plasteel ceilings and floorings. His procession of hovercars flew alongside, in front and behind them, mostly filled with his Honor Guard, aides, and some Executive Ministers. The Chouncilor’s hoverlimo—protected by a bomb-proof forcefield and armored exterior—contained only him, Biros and four Honor Guardsmen in other sections. Lounging back in his spongy kurokoos-hide seat, Bogosian was still stewing in anger.
“They insulted my honor, Chouncilor,” Biros barked from his seat across the hoverlimo compartment. “Your Senators have no respect!” The massive Kedri shook his silvery-white hair, now out of its ponytail. The antigrav limo was not spacious enough for someone Biros’ size, as evident by his constant squirming. “And that…Rhomeran,” he spat the word out like an expletive. “On Kedria, I’d have snapped his neck on the spot!”
“This isn’t Kedria,” Bogosian leaned forward with clasped hands. “Our customs are more civilized.”
Biros’s menace melted into mirth after that. “Look at me, piqued by the smallest affront.” His laugh was half a hiss, half a booming hoot. “Have to remember, I’m not an Imperium Warmaster anymore.”
Bogosian, no fan of Senator Hedoshe or his puppet master Guilloche, chuckled darkly. Clearly the puppet’s outburst was planned by the master. Bogosian knew despite the Union Senators and Delegates’ power, they were still representatives of their planet’s objectives. Nearly every memberworld adjacent to the trade route wanted in on the benefits it would provide, hence why the Trade Merger was becoming a reality. Still… “I just want this merger to succeed. If anything derailed it—.”
“Nothing will prevent it, Chouncilor,” Biros leaned forward as best he could, peering at Bogosian with his violet eyes. “Though many within the Kedri Imperium are opposed to it, the Sovereign feels it is the right thing to do, and the right time for the Kedri to open its doors to other races and their cultures.”
“Then that’s what matters,” Bogosian relaxed into his seat, surprised at how tense he had been.
Biros tried to recline and didn’t find much success. His jaw protrusions bristled with exasperation. “Listen Chouncilor, Ari. What I said earlier, about the Korvenites.”
Just then from the limo compartment’s center rectangular slab, a wide double-sided viewscreen popped up. The familiar planet logo for Terra Sollus’ local IPNN affiliate appeared. Nanoclics later, Viqi Cole, lead anchor for the evening news stream, appeared onscreen with her ‘solemn and concerned’ reporter face. “On the day that Chouncilor Bogosian met with Kedri Primary Potentiary Biros Nor in the Bicameral, violence broke out in Corowood’s Interplanetary Zoo. Members of the human separatist group, the Children of Earth, launched an attack on the zoo’s non-human patrons in protest of the Union-Imperium Trade Merger. Twenty-three sentients were killed, fifty were injured. All non-humans.”
Images of the violence whisked in the background — pulse rifles firing, non-humans screaming. Bogosian felt ill. A lingering vestige of human racism, still alive and well. Another issue to worry about.
“They were able to render the security measures inoperative in the immediate area,” Viqi continued, “and the death toll might have been higher. But thanks to a concerned citizen, who refused to be identified, the Children of Earth were stopped before more sentients were harmed. All the perpetrators of the zoo attack are in custody and in critical condition. More on this story….”
“News stream off,” Bogosian ordered. The viewscreen winked out. He’d seen enough chaos today.
“That ‘concerned citizen’ must be quite the warrior,” Biros marveled, his crimson skin brightening.
“Sorry about that, Biros,” Ari contritely turned his attention back to Biros. “If I’m traveling, I program it to show me the afternoon IPNN news streams.” Bogosian then ran his hand expertly across a console on the side wall to his right. “Drink? I know this wine database has some Kedri beverages in it.”
The Kedri Advisor waved it off. “No thank you.”
“Computer, one red vuraberry wine.” The wall slid away, and a flute with a bubbly red drink appeared. Taking a long sip, the Chouncilor then returned his focus to Biros. “Now, where were we?”
“My comment in the Senate Chambers on the subject of the Korvenites….”
Bogosian bit back acerbic distaste. “It’s okay, Biros. It did get the Senate’s attention didn’t it?”
“I meant every word of it, Ari.” The Kedri’s face was full of gravity. His bony protrusions bristled slightly. “I’m not alone in my views. Many within the Imperium High Castellan ask why we Kedri ally ourselves with a Union that claims diversity, but allows the imprisonment of the Korvenites.”
Bogosian’s eyes narrowed. The Kedri was crossing a line. “Biros, I know you’re a guest, but you have no clue what the Korvenites have done. They simply can’t be trusted.” He took another sip from his glass. “And I could say the same with how your Imperial Dependencies are treated.”
“I know how much the Earth Holocaust cost your Union,” Biros continued, ignoring the jab. “But don’t you think this grudge against the Korvenites is why your Internment Protectorates have been sacked?”
Bogosian choked on his vuraberry wine and gawked at Biros. “How could you know about that—?”
The computer’s chirp interrupted them again. “We are at the Event Horizon Hotel, Chouncilor.”
“That’s my stop, Chouncilor. I will see you again in a few days. And I’ll give the Sovereign an abridged report of the Senate session.” As the hoverlimo’s door slid open, Biros moved out onto the waiting landing pad. Before leaving, he held out his hand and enveloped Ari’s own in a long, crushing handshake. Bogosian was still so stunned that he barely held back a wince. “Remember my words,” Biros gave him an odd, knowing stare that looked out of place on a Kedri face. With that, the Kedri was gone. The door hissed shut, leaving Bogosian mystified and flexing his hand to see if it still worked.
5.
Many knew Bimnorii as a small desert planet orbiting Noriida Major about 100 light years outside the GUPR, within the swath of space known as the Lawless Regions. Countless adventurers trekked from all corners of the galaxy to find precious riinethe ore below this boom world’s sandy surface.
Some deemed it a hemorrhoid on the galaxy’s backside, run by criminals and cons. Others said that Noriida Major was so scorching during the day, one could literally broil to death if they stayed out in the deserts too long. Then there was the slave trading, which everyone knew of, but did nothing to stop.
Tharydane Eirrouma, a Korvenite teenager living on Bimnorii, could agree with and confirm all those things. But right now, Bimnorii was the last thing on her mind.
Behind the stage curtain, Tharydane heard the patrons of Hugrask’s Hostellaris roar in anticipation of her performance—most calling for her, others shrieking in their own tongue things she wished she didn’t understand. But that didn’t quell the enthusiasm flooding Tharydane’s brain. She smiled to herself in the tiny, grimy backstage. She took one last look in a mirror on the wall to make sure she was stage rea
dy.
She saw a petite, willowy Korvenite staring back. The dim halolights of the backstage caught the sleek luster of the violet mane, tumbling down to the Korvenite’s waist in lazy ringlets. Her dress top was a sleeveless, red bodice and midriff baring; its companion skirt low-waisted and made of goldilace fabric, three trimmed cape-cut ruffles with crimson trimming that reached way past her feet. The outfit hugged all her slender curves flawlessly. Tharydane ran her hands over her snowy white face, heart-shaped and youthfully elfin. With the makeup and her developed body, no one ever believed she was just 14 years of age. The crowd had turned rabid, their whistles turning into screams. “THARYDANE! THARYDANE!”
“Okay,” she breathed in and glided through the curtain.
As soon as she hit the stage, the spotlight revealed her in full. At once the crowd roared in total frenzy. The lights in the hostellaris were lowered; the rowdy throng beyond the stage was a sea of murky shapes packed together, certain appendages or head shapes revealing their races at a glance. Sprays of half-finished intoxicants and shattering cups showered the hostellaris, much to the chagrin of its waiters. Their collective zeal soaked Tharydane’s mind on all fronts, feeling better than a natural high.
Abruptly she struck a pose—one hand high in the air, the other at her side. For the start of her dance Tharydane needed quiet, and got it. The crowd hushed, like obedient pets ordered by their master.
First came the harmony, flowing melodic strings from the halaika instrument—distinctly Korvenite in its dulcet, three-toned style. Across the room was the hostellaris’ musical band, a group of diverse and talented sentients who played for all her performances. By way of their skill, music from Tharydane’s ancestors wove a pleasurable tone into this drinking hole. But the Korvenite stayed frozen in her stance. Except her hips. Years of practice taught her to quiver them ever so subtly, without moving any other body part.
When the song’s percussive backdrop slid into the melodies, Tharydane was on the move, gliding forward across the stage. Her hips no longer just quivered; as if possessed, they sashayed and shook in unison with the brisk tempo. She followed with her heels, rhythmically clicking them on the flooring. At this point, Tharydane was fully entwined into the music, yet still dancing circles around it. The song’s pulse—fast, infectious, exotic—was a complex labyrinth that she knew by heart. To Tharydane, it burst at the seams with energy, telling a triumphant and poignant tale about Korvenite history without any words.