Pane Segdi looked out the window of the Floor Leader’s office, just outside the conference room, anger slowly building within her.

The list of officers lost was being steadily filled in, and it was horrible. She had been out of the service over twenty years, but she still knew more than her share. One of the officers lost had served with her on the Troji, a ridiculously young Executive Officer when she’d been its Security Chief. Eleven years younger than her, and she’d resented it…until she saw him at work. And she’d changed her mind almost immediately. There were those rare non-Tam officers who just obviously have it, that indefinable something that makes it obvious to everyone that they’re going to be great. Aerti Bass had it. She had been unsurprised when he got the Gyfjon, unsurprised when he took command of Gama Fleet. He would have been Imperii, probably within two or three years, and the only reason he wasn’t going to be was his willingness to sacrifice himself to save the Empire.

That didn’t surprise Pane either.

Aerti wasn’t the only officer she knew by first name, nor the only one she’d served with. The list was too long, too painful to contemplate, and she was ninety Imperial light years away. For the men and women in the system…it would be a million times worse.

She knew what the men and women in Gama Fleet must be feeling right now, knew how Lemm Tam’s stomach must be twisted in knots, not just from losing a friend and her C.O., but from looking over the board, and seeing the empty spaces where the Troji, and the Jev, and the Tenal, and the Gyfjon should be. From checking in with the flight deck, where they were busily down-checking lost fighters…and lost pilots. From talking to the Sendrofos about who could be patched up and returned to duty, and who could be patched up and sent home, and who couldn’t be patched up at all.

That should be their focus. Hers, the Dodecahedron’s, the Empire’s, everyone’s.

More than anything, it should be the Floor Leader’s.

They were waiting for Loona Armac to come up to the meeting; she had come on the Atlantis, straight from the battle to here. A ludicrous waste of resources, but one that would be justified if she was being brought here to discuss the tactical situation, discuss what resources Gama Fleet would need, and the people on the colony. But Forna Qorni hadn’t summoned Loona to help make the Empire more secure. She’d summoned her because she was worried that Loona Armac would outmaneuver her politically.

Pane had been a moderate conservative all her life. She disagreed with Loona Armac on dozens of issues, and that was unlikely to change. But so had Rodrec Zeramblin, and he’d mentioned, more than once, that he trusted Armac, even if he didn’t agree with her.

“Segdi,” he’d said, “Armac’ll lie to you, and hide the ball, and play the long game, just like any other politician. But when she shakes your wrist and tells you that it’s a deal, it’s a deal. And when she can get to a deal, she’ll deal, and when she can’t, she’ll tell you. She’s wrong a lot of the time, but she’d say the same about you and me. But she’s wrong for the right reasons. She believes what she believes, believes she’s doing what’s best for the Empire.”

Segdi had seen what Zeramblin meant. If Loona Armac was Floor Leader, and Forna Qorni had ordered the attack at Tau Ceti, Loona would have praised her initiative and grabbed her wrist. Oh, it may have stung…she’d know it would hurt her politically. But she would have done it, because the Empire was not just the background to her political career.

It wasn’t the background to Pane’s, either.

The elevator bleeped, and Loona stepped off.

Pane looked over. For a moment, she thought about going up to her, offering support, but one look at her face dissuaded her. She’d seen that look, too many times. The look of someone who’s been through horror and Hadia, and come out the other side. Armac wasn’t shell-shocked; Segdi knew that look, too. But she was wrung out, and exhausted, and completely done.

Pane turned and walked into the room, and sat down. Armac moved robotically, and slid into her seat on autopilot. The room was reasonably quiet, save for the Floor Leader, who radiated energy. Qorni almost smiled as she began. She didn’t even look at Loona as she began to prepare for her political execution.

“Well, there is quite a lot to deal with, but let’s deal with the most pressing matter first. The Deputy Floor Leader has sent us her report, and I know all of you have seen it. I will be addressing the Empire after the conclusion of this meeting, to add to the information the military has released; Rep. Armac, is there anything you wish to state in extension of the information you have provided?”

Loona shifted slightly, uncomfortably. But Pane smiled as she saw her sit up, just a bit. “The colony at Tau Ceti is secure, Earth and the Empire are safe, the Hive Ship was destroyed, and the few surviving Insectoid forces have retreated back to Hive Space,” said the Deputy Floor Leader, whose weariness was now suffused with satisfaction. “The cost was very high, no question. Far too many good people gave their lives. And we do not know what else the Insectoids might have in reserve. But the sacrifices that were made have secured the Empire, at least for now.”

Pane thought, very hard, at Qorni. Say it was a good job, Forna. Congratulate her. Congratulate the military. Don’t frakking do it.

“And the fact that you authorized that attack, despite not having the authority?” Qorni asked, as she frakking did it.

Loona turned to the Floor Leader, and looked her square in the eye. “I took the action I did under existing precedent, and I did so in good faith, believing it would be the action you would direct. And I believe the actions I took on behalf of this government were in the best interests of the people of this Empire.”

Qorni sighed, and sat up a bit more. Haughtily, she began.

“The actions you took ‘on behalf of this government.’ You took no actions on behalf of this government. We’re already facing war against the Federation. It was wrong to commit us to another without consulting this cabinet, and I don’t care what you say about communications, if you were unable to communicate, you should have ordered the troops to withdraw until you reached us to confirm! Quite simply, you did not have authority under the law to order that attack, and whatever the outcome, it was an egregious abuse of power. Rep. Armac, I have no choice but….”

Pane couldn’t do it. She couldn’t. It wasn’t that she couldn’t let Qorni do this – though she couldn’t. She couldn’t just warn Forna off of this attack. She couldn’t just fire a shot over her bow.

She needed to aim square at her hull, blow her to bits, and end her premiership. Qorni was not fit for the job.

So rather than interrupting and suggesting politely that before anyone took actions, they should consider whether the floor would support them, as she’d planned to, Pane asked a question that was meant to kill.

“Wait a moment, Madam Floor Leader. What do you mean? Are you saying she should have told Gama Fleet to withdraw?”

Qorni’s face was priceless. Her jaw dropped at the impertinence, and she turned to the Minister of Defense in surprise.

“As you know, Pane, she wouldn’t have had to tell Navarchos Bass anything. Rules of Engagement dictated that he withdraw. Rep. Armac overruled him, and I don’t fault him for taking her direction, but we are now engaged in a war with the Insectoids at the same time as we face a war to retake the Federation. These things should be engaged in with deliberation and consideration, and given that there is still debate as to whether humans can become citizens…..”

Segdi leaned forward. She pointed at the Floor Leader, accusingly. “Don’t act like there’s no justification for Rep. Armac’s actions. You, the Minister of Law, and I all talked about the fact that it was a possibility. As for her decision….it saved over a million Imperial nationals, all of whom are eligible to become citizens in two years. Even if they were to somehow become independent, we saved a million Class One Sentient Beings who are allied with us, living in Imperial Territory with the permission of the House. Are you saying that we should not have done this? That you would not have defended them? That it would be better if Loona Armac had let them die so she could make a call to you on her pad?”

There was a very long pause before Qorni spoke.

“I’m…I’m not saying that. I’m saying we needed to consider all the variables, the looming fight with the Federation….”

“Taking time to do that would have sacrificed the humans on the Colony, and likely the humans on Earth. And given that their force was destroyed at Tau Ceti…who knows how many Titans. Azatlia would have been cut off, for frak’s sake!”

Segdi was no longer showing deference. Qorni wasn’t owed it. The more she spoke, the more she realized how little respect the Floor Leader was due. How dare she? How dare she!?

“You…Pane, you said it yourself, in the debate on the Zeramblin Act! They aren’t as smart as we are, or the Dunnermac, or the Ler. They aren’t as capable. They can’t defend themselves.”

Segdi looked over at Loona; the Deputy Floor Leader was looking at her somewhat expectantly. Pane thought that Loona likely wanted to know if Pane still believed that, about humans.

There are many ways she could have addressed it. Pane decided to be honest.

“First, if I was right – and at this point, I’m honestly starting to think I wasn’t – that’s all the more reason to defend them. And second — and the reason I’m thinking I frakked up — they did pretty gorram well defending themselves. And us. They saved a lot of Imperial lives after the Gyfjon went down, according to the after-action reports.”

Jonto Cethje, who’d been holding his tongue, finally interjected on Loona’s behalf. “Madam Floor Leader, I don’t know how you say these aren’t people – the law is clear….”

Qorni appeared happy to have an actual enemy to go after. “The law is clear, and we should defend it for the moment, but it is wrong. It will be changed, sooner than later, and we will get over this nonsense that humans are our equals. I am not saying….”

“The law will not be changed. Not if I have anything to say about it.”

Everyone turned to the Minister of State in shock.

Lali Berisen felt very tired, and very old. He didn’t think humans were the equal of Titans, not at all. But he had been reading history of late, as he often did when he felt he was missing something. And he had realized to his chagrin that he was. And so he began to tell the story of Usid Zeust, and his position on the Dunnermac Equality Act.

As Berisen laid into Qorni, Segdi looked over at Jontu Cethje. He looked back at her, just for a second, and nodded.

Berisen drew to a close, and added the coup de grace. “Madam Floor Leader, you have stated more than once that you may not have ordered the attack that the Deputy Floor Leader did, that you would have had to consider whether to defend these people. I find that unconscionable.”

Berisen looked down, briefly. He had spent much of his career hoping that maybe he’d make it to the cabinet. He knew he wasn’t going to be anyone’s idea of a Floor Leader, but he thought on the cabinet he could help build on the long tradition of conservative governance. Now, he was about to hand the keys of the government to the liberals, possibly for a generation.

But he knew that if the conservatives were to come back to power within the generation, it would be for the same reason they had after Magilna – because they could see which way the wind was blowing, and they could adapt. Conservatives were supposed to believe in the traditions and values that made the Empire great, and resist attempts to impose ridiculous ideas of social engineering on the people. But when the people evolved on their own…well, you evolved with them, or you died as a movement.

Qorni had chosen her death. She had placed the movement ahead of the Empire. The people would never accept that, nor should they. They served the people, after all. If Qorni chose this path, it would destroy them all, and he was not going to allow that. Armac had done the right thing. She had earned this.

Berisen turned at Pane Segdi’s question.

“Jontu, did the Floor Leader ask you to prepare an opinion on the legality of Rep. Armac’s decision?” She knew that Qorni had; obviously she had. She would have tried to co-opt Jontu Cethje.

“She did, as a matter of fact. And I have prepared one,” Cethje said, with a nod. He had done a lot of work, and he wouldn’t need it…but he was glad to have it anyhow, to cement it all. “Based on my analysis of precedent and the basic foundation of Article I of the Charter. ‘Ours is a union of peoples, united under one banner for our mutual benefit; for our prosperity, our security, and our freedom.’ By the most fundamental law of this Empire, I believe Rep. Armac had no choice but to give the order she did.”

Forna Qorni dropped her pad, because it would be rude to hurl it across the room.

Berisen nodded. Cethje was a liberal, but he appreciated that he’d gone back to the Charter for his analysis. “I tend to agree,” he said. “Indeed, given the way this attack was formulated, I think that we may need to look at changing the rules of engagement in general. It was fortunate that a cabinet official was there, so that Navarchos Bass could launch a counterattack. Luck was on our side, but we are fools if we count luck the next time.”

“This is all well and good,” Qorni said, hoping against hope that she could at least forestall the inevitable with a concession or two. “But….”

“Forna, I’m sorry,” said Berisen, cutting the Floor Leader off. “But you have stated flatly that faced with an extant attack on the Empire, you would have had to consider whether or not to respond. That you wanted Rep. Armac to have Gama fleet withdraw in the face of wanton slaughter to consult. The Insectoids were in our territory, for frak’s sake, they had already invaded, there was no decision to be made. It is bad enough in this situation, but I fear this is a pattern – you waited too long to respond to the Federation’s clear flouting of the law, and it has made our task there more difficult. I understand your position, and I am not saying that it is not reasoned, but it is dangerous, and unfortunately, it is disqualifying in my eyes. I lack confidence in you.”

“As do I,” Segdi said.

It was done. With the two seniormost members of the conservatives against her, Qorni’s premiership was over.

Berisen was not above politics. He knew that Armac could likely pull together enough votes to govern. Their ability to influence policy would depend on their willingness to work with her. And perhaps, if he signaled his willingness now, she would accept it in the spirit in which it was offered.

“Rep. Armac,” he said, “when you proposed the national unity government, I know that you had suggested that budgeting would simply be based on what could get through based on negotiation, that the government would issue a basic proposal, but would let the house make its decisions. If a unity government were to survive somehow, would that remain your position?”

“It would, Rep. Berisen,” Loona said. “We’re a closely divided house. Unless that changes, all sides deserve input, and I will support the budget the Committee on Auditing recommends to the floor.”

He nodded. That was a fair answer. She had to know she had the upper hand. She could have pushed it, made all of them pay for Qorni’s sins.

She wasn’t going to. So he would make one last concession. If Armac was the leader he thought she was, she would accept it.

“Good,” he said. “Then we can work together. I support the Deputy Floor Leader as Floor Leader, and under the Magilna precedent, I move this cabinet install her as Floor Leader immediately, subject to ratification by the House.”

“Now wait a minute!” Qorni said. “That was during a crisis! An emergency!”

“The Insectoids just attacked the Empire,” Segdi said, grateful that Berisen had made the move, instead of waiting for her to do so. “And we’re preparing to invade a province. That’s emergency enough for me. I second the motion and call the question – Rep. Qorni, before we vote, I will give you a chance to resign. We can all say that you were impressed by the Deputy Floor Leader’s leadership.”

“I will be happy,” Loona said, “to say it was your idea.”

Berisen smiled. Yes, Armac was who he thought she was. Formidable, tough – and magnanimous in victory.

As for Qorni….

Forna Qorni was a fighter. She had fought this Tol-Bot match until down to her last soldier, completely cornered and without any hope of survival. And her instincts were, even at the end, to have that soldier charge into the teeth of the enemy, despite certain destruction.

But she couldn’t. She had lost her premiership, lost her political future. All she had left was a scrap of dignity. Fight this…and even that would be gone.

Pane knew she had to show surprise when Qorni capitulated. She noted the resignation for the record, and called the question as soon as Berisen moved to install Loona Armac as Floor Leader. She was surprised, a bit, and gratified to see that Dicero also joined the majority in voting for Loona. That was important. A united front was important.

“Congratulations, Floor Leader Armac,” Pane said, and then, recognizing the situation, added, “I will let you know that we will all be submitting our resignations….”

“Absolutely not,” Loona said. “This Empire is in crisis, and we need all members willing to work to hold it together. There will be time for new voting and realignments and so forth. But not today, and not in the near term. I will ask my friends on the north side of the chamber….”

“North side,” Qorni scoffed in spite of herself. “Conservatives who’ve thrown in behind Loona Armac.”

“Indeed,” Berisen said. “You see, Rep. Qorni, we know that whatever our disagreements – she will not hesitate to defend the Empire and its people. You may – eventually, you probably will – but you have demonstrated that you will not rush to do so, and alas, there are times when you must. But your interruption reminds me that decorum requires us to give the former floor leader some space to clear her office – Madam Floor Leader, we look forward to working with you,” he said, nodding to Loona. He actually did, he thought. He’d been 36 when he’d joined the legislature; he was 70 now. 34 years…it had gotten a bit stale. But this would be an intriguing challenge, working with this Floor Leader. It would require patience, and skill, and he knew he would likely lose as many battles as he won. But he knew Zeramblin had respected her, and he did, too. She would be a good leader, and he would be there to push back when he disagreed with her.

“Under the previous agreement,” Loona said, “I would ask that the conservative members designate for appointment a deputy leader…actually, I’d like you to add two Conservative members to the cabinet, as Ministers Without Portfolio until we have time to formally reassign offices. I want to keep the numbers even, but there’s a member of my caucus I’d like to bring on….”

“I believe that it would be wise to have a human in the office of Minister of Non-Titan Affairs, at least in the short term,” Segdi said. “I will be happy to nominate Rep. Smit. We will nominate two members as soon as possible. Rep. Berisen will be our nominee for Deputy; we will have to determine what happens with State, but I’m sure he’ll carry that office until we do.”

Berisen was slightly surprised; he’d expected Pane Segdi to push for Deputy. But then, he realized that at this moment, Pane wouldn’t want to leave Defense to anyone else.

As for a human on the cabinet, well…it would be odd. Then again…they were a member species, were they not? And Smit had a good reputation. And yes…Pane was right, it made sense at this moment for Rep. Smit to join them.

Pane had been secretary-of-the-day, and she filed the minutes of the meeting, officially ending one Floor Leader’s reign and beginning another’s.

She gave Loona a wordless nod; she also looked over at Forna, and felt a pang of sorrow. She didn’t dislike the former Floor Leader. But liking someone is not a good enough reason to make them leader. She hoped, after the dust settled, that Qorni would at least hear her out when she explained why she did what she did.

She headed for the elevator, and Berisen joined her. “Madam Minister,” he said, as the doors closed, “I believe that the two of us should split the choices for cabinet, and as you passed on the opportunity for Deputy, I believe the first choice belongs to you.”

“Diodio Eusy,” Pane said. “He was going to back me against Qorni in a floor fight over Armac. It worked out better this way, but…he was a good Minister of State, and depending….”

“I agree, Eusy is quite competent. And I will likely turn State over to him, though I will want to keep my hand in.”

“Of course. You’re Deputy, and the conservative leader. You can meddle anywhere you wish.”

“Good. I would recommend Lura Frol. The Royalists have nobody on the cabinet, and we both know their annoyance at that. Moreover, Rep. Frol worked as a field administrator in development for her provincial government before getting involved in politics herself.”

“Development…yes, once the Federation is reconquered, there will be a lot of work for someone with that experience. She’s a good choice.”

The elevator approached their floor. “I hope,” Berisen said, “that we made the right decision.”

Segdi shrugged. “Honestly, Lali…what choice did Forna leave us?”

Berisen nodded. “None whatsoever, Pane. None whatsoever.”

* * *

Reevah nodded to the officer standing guard at the doorway to Loona’s building. “We’ve stationed another officer outside your condominium for tonight. I will say, I’ll feel better once we’ve moved you into One Imperial Square, Madam Floor Leader.”

“That’s right,” Loona murmured, as they headed for the elevator. “I’d kind of forgotten that. You know, this condo has been my family’s home since I was first elected. It’s going to be strange.”

“I’m sure, but One Imperial Square….”

“Oh, it’s lovely, Krator Tam. I’ve been there more than a few times. It’s just…at the start of today I was in negotiations with Earth. And now….”

Loona yawned. “By the way, Krator, I know you’re officially my chief of security, but I know you don’t usually run the point.”

Reevah smiled. “I do on special occasions. It’s your first day, Madam Floor Leader.”

“It is, but you couldn’t have known that earlier.”

“No, but honestly…well, I was there to do my duty, ma’am. But…the 1^st Corps is our own entity, but I still know a whole hell of a lot of officers in Gama Fleet. I was there to tell you, ma’am, that I appreciated what you did. And possibly to turn in my resignation.”

“Why would you do that?” Loona asked.

“I knew Floor Leader Qorni’s plans, you know. Kept quiet…that’s my job. But had she actually managed to fire you…I wouldn’t have been able to continue to serve her. Not after that. I’m glad it worked out the way it did.”

“And you couldn’t have warned me?” Loona asked.

“Of course not. Like I said…discretion is the key to my job.”

“I know. Just checking. The secrets you’re going to hear are about to be much, much more critical to the survival of the Empire. But then, you’ve kept the Boyar’s secret for over two decades.”

“I have, Madam Floor Leader. But then, he’s not just a former asset. He’s a friend. So are Daz and Rhionne. And I know what they think of you, ma’am. I’m very happy to be back serving a Floor Leader that I like.”

“You liked Rodrec, then?” Loona said, as the door opened.

“Yes, ma’am. He’s a good man.”

“Yes, he is,” Loona said.

Reevah led Loona to her door. The Avartle officer guarding it snapped to attention. “Krator Leader-of-Floor-Leader-Guarders. Two people in the residence. Both check out,” she signed, handing a pad to Tam. Reevah looked it over and nodded.

“Very good, Mr. Floor-Leader-Guarder.”

“Excuse me,” Loona said. “I assume one of them is Dhan. Who’s the other?”

“A Ms. Maris,” Floor-Leader-Guarder said. “Mr. Armac said she was a friend.”

“She is,” Loona said, with a smile.

“Will she be remaining in the residence overnight?” Reevah asked.

“Hopefully,” Loona said.

“Very good, ma’am. Mr. Floor-Leader-Guarder, Ms. Trghghgh will replace you at 02:00. Keep a close eye out.”

“Yes, Krator Leader-of-Floor-Leader-Guarders.”

“Good night, Krator Tam. And good night, Ms. Floor-Leader-Guarder,” Loona said, opening her door.

“Good night, Madam Floor Leader,” Reevah said, as she looked over the pad.

Loona opened the door to her condo, wondering how many more times she would. She wasn’t sorry to be moving in to One Imperial Square, it was an honor, after all. But still….

The sound of laughter broke her train of thought. She stepped in, and closed the door, hearing the trailing part of the conversation drifting in from the kitchen.

“…Gods, he really did, didn’t he?” a familiar feminine voice said. “Can’t believe it.”

“I know,” a smaller male one did. “He was one of a kind.”

“Which one-of-a-kind person are we talking about?” Loona asked, walking around the corner, but before she got an answer, a blonde-haired woman was up like a shot, rushing over and embracing her tightly.

“Gorram, Loona,” Aisell said. “I am so glad to see you.”

Loona meant to say the same in return, but she found herself, for the second time that day, dissolving into a puddle of tears. She didn’t have the will to hold them back, and she knew that the woman holding her close would let her cry until the tears couldn’t fall any more. They didn’t pry, but when one of them opened up…they always listened, and they always loved.

“Sorry,” Loona finally mumbled. “Just…it’s been a lousy day.”

“You know,” Aisell chuckled, “you became Floor Leader, and I agree, it’s sucked. At least it sounds like Lessy is safe.”

“Yeah,” Loona said. “Sorry, Dhan, took me a moment.”

Dhan had remained quiet while Loona cried – honestly, he never felt comfortable with crying people, and he was glad Aisell was there, because there was no way he was gonna let Loona cling to him while crying it out – he didn’t want to be squeezed to death.

“It’s okay, Loona,” Dhan said. “I heard…the news said you gave the order to fight for the colony?”

“Yeah,” Loona said, sitting down.

Dhan swallowed hard, and walked up to her, and put his tiny hand on hers. “Thank you,” he said, quietly. “Nonah and I…we already owe you everything, and I….”

Loona shook her head. “You owe me nothing, Dhan. Not a thing. You’re family. And so is Lessy. You and Nonah…you guys, and Ulee, and Hector, and Lessy…you know there’s nobody in the galaxy more important to me than you, and only five as important. Well…four, now,” Loona said.

“That was who we were talking about, when you came in. Dhan was a better friend of his than me,” Aisell said, “but he was a remarkable man.”

“Yeah,” Loona said. “Lot of remarkable people died because of my decision.”

“And a lot of remarkable people are alive because of it,” Aisell said.

“I’m not sorry you’re here, Aisell, but…what brought you to Tuaut? I thought you were in training for…uh….”

“The Grand Tribute, Loona, Nonah and I figured out she was Felltree a long time ago, you know,” Dhan sighed.

“Well…yeah, I still am,” Aisell said. “But it’s not a long trip from the farm. And Dhan thought you could use the company. And you’re more important to me than the Tribute.”

Loona laughed in spite of herself. “Well, that’s one of us,” she giggled.

Aisell rolled her eyes, but she smiled. Loona needed a laugh right now. And a friend.

“Naskia is going to need…I don’t even know,” Loona said. “I left a message on her pad…I heard Lilitu talked to her. But losing your brother is hard. Losing your husband is hard. Losing both…and I wouldn’t blame her for hating me for it.”

“They made their decisions, Loona,” Dhan said. “I don’t know Navarchos Bass, but Niall…if he made up his mind, you weren’t going to change it. And neither of you know…well, maybe you do, Loona, a bit…but…he saved Sorcha. That’s…if I had the choice to trade my life for Lessy’s, it wouldn’t be a choice. I’d do it before you got the sentence out. I know Nonah would, too. And if Nonah died saving Hector or Ulee or Lessy…I’d hate it,” he said. “But I’d be damned proud of her, and damned grateful. And I wouldn’t blame you if you let her do it, Loona. I’d be grateful that you did.”

“I would have made that trade,” Loona said. “I wish I could.”

“I know, Loona,” Aisell said. “But that’s why I love you, and why Dhan and Nonah love you, and why Niall loved you.”

“You know, he called me a piece of tuppshaka for trying to keep him off the Gyfjon, bring him to the escape pod. I could have saved him…but I let him go,” Loona said, swallowing hard. “I didn’t know what he had planned, but had I….I hope he realized…hope he didn’t die….”

“Loona, you’ve known Niall longer than I have,” Dhan said. “He could be a right bastard when he wanted to get his way. But you know as well as I do that if anything…he’d feel bad about having left it that way. He wanted you to let him save his baby girl. And you did. You know what he felt about you when he died? He felt like you, Loona Armac, respected him enough to let him do that. Respected him enough not to just scoop him up and drag him along. Respected him enough to let him make his own mistakes, because to you, he was, and always will be, a person, and a friend. And he died feeling exactly the same way about you, I’d bet.”

Loona frowned, and looked distant for a moment. “I don’t know,” she said, finally, “if I can do this. I don’t know if I’m ready.”

“You didn’t listen to your own press conference, then,” Aisell said. “I was inspired, and I’ve seen you at your silliest.”

“I know,” Loona said, “but I got to feel what it was like, you know. To tell people to go die. And I’m going to get to again. The Federation, soon. The Insectoids…we can’t sit back and hope they stay away. I’m going to put a lot of people in harm’s way.”

“Yeah, you are,” Aisell said. “And you’re going to feel awful about it. And you’re still going to do it, for the same reason you did at Tau Ceti – because the alternative is more people dying, more people hurt. And you will grieve the losses. And frakking good. I wouldn’t want to be governed by a Floor Leader who didn’t. But you will do it, Loona, because if there’s one thing I know about you, it’s that you will never force someone else to do your job for you. You will always take on the fight when it’s in front of you. You did for Niall, and for Darren. You did for Dhan and Nonah, you did for every human in this Empire. I don’t know if you’re ready, but you’ll do everything you can, and gorram it, Loona…that’s gonna be better than anyone else I know.”

Loona nodded. “Thanks, both of you,” she said. “I…this is kind of a lousy way to greet you.”

“What, burdening me with your problems? What are more-or-less-steady girlfriends for?”

“Not to mention brothers-in-law, or whatever I am,” Dhan said.

“You’re Dhan. And you’re Aisell. And I love you both. In very different ways.”

“Good,” Dhan said. “I don’t need Nonah mad at me. Plus, that would be weird. Now, I’m tired, and I’m sure you two are. Get some sleep, both of you,” he said.

“Come on,” Aisell said, standing up, and offering Loona a hand. “You need to sleep. Don’t worry, I know you’re probably not in the mood,” she said, kissing Loona’s cheek. “Honestly, I’m not either.”

“No,” Loona said, “but I could use someone to hold tonight, Ais. Thanks.”

Aisell smiled. “I could too, Loona. After all…we were awfully close to not being able to do that again.”

Loona put her arm around Aisell’s waist. “Just don’t do anything stupid like propose out of relief. You know neither of us want that.”

“No, no. Though I don’t know, I’d make a good Imperial Hostess, don’t you think?”

“Not really. Lezah’s more of the hostess type. You’d make a good…um….well, you’re good at Tol-Bot.”

Aisell stuck her tongue out at Loona. “Sure, see if I stick around, with this kind of abuse.”

Loona sighed. “You love it, Ais.”

Aisell put her arm around Loona’s shoulder, and guided her to the bedroom. “Gorram right I do, Loona. Gorram right I do.”