“Winning may not be everything, but losing has little to recommend it.”

—Sen. Dianne Feinstein, D-Cal.

Loona stood on the stage, and at the same time, she felt very much as if she was standing beside it.

It seemed impossible. And yet here she was, standing before a cheering crowd, smiling to her supporters. Her constituents.

“I couldn’t have done this without you,” Loona said, beaming. “Everyone who knocked on a door, everyone who talked to a friend, who posted on social media, everyone who came out to vote. This is your win, and I am so grateful to you all for it.”

Loona paused, and the crowd roared its approval.

In the end, it hadn’t been particularly close. Oh, she hadn’t run away with it. She earned 54 percent of the vote to Zapat’s 46 percent. As it became more apparent that she’d won, Ammer had looked over the exit poll data and grinned; Loona had managed to both excite her base and win the fence-sitters. Zapat had cleaned up among the conservatives, naturally, and he won a majority of those sixty-plus, but Loona had more than made up for it among the young. Indeed, Ammer had mused, this would be the closest she’d ever run. Five years from now, if trends held, Loona would win almost sixty percent. Ten years from now it would be well over sixty.

More remarkable was the polling on human equality. Support for it in the district had jumped six points during the campaign, and opposition had fallen by seven. And among voters under 30, it now held a bare majority – 51-48.

Of course, Tannhauser West was one of the most liberal of the thousand House districts. Ammer was under no illusion that they were anywhere close to that Empire-wide. But it did demonstrate that the Titans could be persuaded. That they were willing, as Loona had said they would be, to look at the evidence. They were a long way from succeeding – decades, at least. Titan ones.

But there was hope.

That was in the future, though. This was now, and right now, Loona was just enjoying the cheers of the friendly victory celebration crowd. She continued on.

“We ran a campaign we could be proud of. One that didn’t hide from difficult truths, one that focused on our opponents’ positions, not their character. I promise you, that when the legislature sits in two weeks, I will continue to advocate for those in our society who need advocates, I will continue to work for those people who need an ally, and I will continue to speak out about the basic equality of all sentient and intelligent species.”

That drew the largest cheer yet; Loona beamed. As the cacophony died down, one woman in the audience shouted, “We love you, Loona!”

“I love you too,” Loona said, and the crowd cheered.

Loona chuckled. “There are far too many people to thank for me to possibly get to them all, but there is one person I want to single out. A person who believed in my campaign before I did, a person who has been with me for this entire run, and the person who – definitely – I am bringing to Tuaut with me to serve in my office, Ammer Smit.”

Loona almost felt like she needed to take a step back with the ovation those words engendered. She knew that would be controversial, still – but the young men and women in the audience, the college students, the next generation of Titans – they were ebullient.

Loona waited for the cheers to subside, and she said, finally, “My fellow citizens, my fellow sapient creatures, now the hard work begins. I am honored to have the opportunity to represent you. But it is just that – an opportunity. Whether you supported this campaign or not, I pledge to you that I will serve this district with all my energy, all my spirit, and all my honor. I pledge to you that I will earn this, each and every day. And I pledge to you that I will never waver in this commitment, not so long as I serve the great people of the Tannhauser West district. Thank you, may fortune favor you, and may fortune favor the Emperor.”

The crowd cheered again, and Loona backed up long enough to wave to the crowd, blow a few kisses, and walk off into the backstage area, where her staff and family were gathered.

There were hugs and congratulations all around; Naskia and Sorcha hugged her, Niall and the Armacs cheered her from a table nearby, Loona’s mom admonished her to do something to eliminate the Senate, then laughed in shock that Loona actually could. Malya and the other senior staffers gathered around and shook Loona’s hand; she was a little disappointed that Malya wouldn’t come to Tuaut, but Ammer’s deputy was instead preparing her own run for the Tannhauser Council. Loona would miss her – and she promised to campaign for her – but it was okay. She knew some of the other staffers would be joining Ammer in Tuaut, and some wouldn’t, and she knew there would be new faces there too. She looked forward to getting to know them.

Speaking of Ammer, he was the one person who hadn’t clamored for her attention when she got backstage. He was sitting in a chair on the table, not far from Niall and Nonah and Dhan and the kids, but he was ignoring the cacophony, and poking at his pad.

Loona walked over, and knelt down. After accepting congratulations more congratulations from her friends and family at human scale, she turned to Ammer, and smiled.

He looked up for but a half-second. “We’ll need to get you to Tuaut in the next day or two. You need to do your pro forma meeting with Zeramblin, then get pledged to Aspire as soon as you can, earlier you do, the better position you’re in for committee assignments. It also gives you a chance to look at open offices, see which one you want. Unfortunately, you won’t get Zapat’s, seniority affects the choice.”

“I know, Ammer,” Loona said.

“You’ve got some Imperial press requests for interviews. Counterintuitive, I know, but I’d recommend politely declining for a bit. Talk to the Tannhauser stations, say you’re focused on representing your district. It’ll keep you from seeming like you’re trying to bigfoot your caucus.”

Loona chuckled. “I agree. And Ammer? You can take a few minutes to enjoy this, you know.”

“No, you can,” Ammer said with a half-smile. “It’s my job to keep working so you can. And you deserve to. You earned it. Anyhow, I’ll respond to the requests, you go party with your friends.”

“That include you.”

“Not here to be your friend, boss.”

Loona laughed. “Well, fine, Ammer, but I don’t want you to get burned out before we get to Tuaut.”

“You don’t have to, you know,” Ammer said, quietly, pausing in mid keystroke.

Loona blinked. “What?”

“Take me to Tuaut. You don’t need me. You’ll do fine. And if you think it will be better for you without a human on staff….”

“Ammer, I meant what I said,” Loona replied. “You helped me stay sane. You told me what I needed to hear. Even when I disagreed, I needed to hear it. You were the best choice for the job, and you still are. Better without you on staff? Not a chance.”

Ammer smiled. “Well, I appreciate that, boss. But if majordomo’s too big a stretch….”

“It isn’t,” Loona said. “Period.”

Ammer nodded. “All right then. We’ve got enough money in the coffers to afford to pay people to strike the office; we’ll meet tomorrow morning and grab anything we want to keep. Now, go on and celebrate.”

“Okay. On one condition. Niall? Dhan? Nonah?”

“Yes, Loona?” Niall said, wandering over; Nonah trailed close behind.

“Take away his pad, and get him a drink. He can work in the morning. Boss’s orders.”

Ammer looked up, about to protest, but he sighed instead, and smiled. “Well, boss, I did promise Dr. Freeman I’d share a whisky. But that was a holo-whisky.”

“Aye, it was, which is why you’ll have to have some royal berry kirsch instead,” Niall replied. “It isn’t Scotch, and it most certainly isn’t Irish whiskey, but it’s not bad.”

Dhan had already poured a drink for Ammer, and brought it over to him. Loona’s majordomo-designate rose, and grabbed it, and raised it high.

“All right,” Ammer said, turning his amplifier on. “Everyone – a toast. To the finest campaign staff in political history, to the finest supporters any campaign has ever had, and most important, to Representative-elect Loona Armac. Long may she serve this district, with the skill and honor we all know her to have. Prosist!”

The group of well-wishers drank to that, and Loona blinked back a tear. Ammer could insist he wasn’t here to be her friend, but she was very glad her friend was going to be with her in Tuaut.

* * *

“It’s a nice condo, really,” Naskia said.

“Yeah, I feel like it doesn’t have enough space,” Loona said, looking around. This was coming together rather quickly; it had seemed fine when she agreed to purchase it from a representative who was retiring. But she worried, now that she saw it full of people. “I’m not sure there’s enough room for Nonah and Dhan and the kids.”

“Are you serious?” Nonah called up from Loona’s pocket.

“Well, what if Sorcha comes to visit?” Loona asked.

“Yeah, what if I come to visit?” Sorcha said. She was bearing Ulee and Hector in both her jacket pockets, and had Lessy in her usual perch on her shoulder. “Not that I’m gonna get to very much now that you’re moving.”

“Um…first, we’re gonna be in Tannhauser lots, and second, you’re here right now,” Lessy pointed out.

“Only ‘cause my mom flew us – and that’s not gonna happen much.”

“I was meaning to mention that, Naskia,” Loona said. “I mean, I don’t cook for a reason – reasons Nonah is careful to remind me of. You can fly commercial. Heck, an autocab is even doable.”

“To be honest, Loona, Sorcha does most of the flying,” Niall said. “It isn’t legal, of course, but it’s safer.”

“I pilot just fine!” Naskia said, looking askance at the man on her shoulder. She looked around the silent room, and grinned sheepishly. “I’m not saying I’m ready to fly Civil Air Patrol over Azatlia or anything.”

Loona looked around the modest two-bedroom condo. The mortgage on it was almost exactly that of her Imperial House housing stipend. She’d be keeping her home in Tannhauser Gate too, of course. Well…sort of. She and Nonah and Dhan had come to an agreement; they’d pay for the house in Tannhauser Gate, Loona would pay for the condo here, and they’d share them equally.

That had led to other conversations – Nonah insisted they’d be okay in the house in Tannhauser from time to time, especially once it was wired for holos. (Nonah had decided to spend her own money to do that; it was only sensible, she insisted.)

That said, Dhan and Nonah and Loona had also agreed that they’d be together more often than not. Not because the two humans and their kids needed Loona’s protection (though they did, if only because of the scale of this world), but because they were family. And that’s what family did.

“I think this place will do nicely,” Dhan called from the corner, where he was inspecting the wiring. “It’s got enough redundant circuitry for me to run my test bed.”

“And we’ll set up the habitat in the living room. We’ll give the second room over to Dhan and me for our office, guest room, and for Sorcha’s weekly visit,” Nonah said. “That is, if you can work in your bedroom.”

“If I can’t, I’m within walking distance of the Legislative Office Building. As long as you guys are happy, I’m happy. Nas, you think it’s good?”

“It’s lovely, Loona,” Naskia said. “And you can’t beat the view.”

It was true; they were on the nineteenth floor here, and the condo looked out toward the Imperial Mall. Through the buildings you could see the Imperial Legislature itself, and the gold domes of the Imperial palace.

“All right,” Loona said, “I’ll go sign the purchase agreement; you guys can head back to the hotel. I’ll meet up with you tonight.”

“Sounds good,” Niall said. “By the way, where’s Ammer?”

“At the hotel with my new Chief of Staff. They’re hiring staff together. But I need to hurry. He just messaged me, reminding me for the fourth time that I have to meet with the Floor Leader in three hours.”

Loona gently handed Nonah to Naskia, and headed to the door; the room was quiet, and she paused halfway there. “What?”

“Nothing, Looney,” Nonah said. “Just the way you say that, like it’s no big thing.”

Loona laughed. “I’m trying not to get nervous about it.”

“No, no,” Nonah said, beaming. “It’s pretty amazing, Loona. I hope you know how proud we all are.”

Loona looked at Nonah, and grinned. “I’m here because of all of you. And Nonah…I’m proud of you all the time. Dhan, you too.”

“And I suppose I’m not important?” Niall piped up.

“No, Niall, it’s just that you’re proud enough of yourself. You don’t need my help,” Loona said with a wink.

* * *

Loona walked across the Imperial Mall. Though she was getting somewhat close to her appointment with the Floor Leader, she still took time to loop the Imperial Fountain, a pool subdivided into a zitsekyaros. She nodded to the Explorers’ Memorial and the Senedj I Memorial; they were impressive, to be sure. But she wanted to pass the last two monuments ringing the pool on the way in. The first was the Tez Magilna monument – stylized a bit, in the aquamarines favored by its Dunnermac sculptor, with Tez herself lifting the first larval stage of the Dunnermacs high into the air. A calm pool of water was at her feet, and the sculpture gave the appearance of her splitting water on either side as she helped to ensure that the Dunnermac people would be seen by all as the equals they were.

The second statue was marble, and very old, but more impressive for its weather-beaten nature. It was simply the first Floor Leader, Eres Egasidomete, standing guard over the main entrance to the Imperial Legislature.

Loona couldn’t help but feel a surge of awe. Tez Magilna had held the seat she currently held in the legislature – Tannhauser West. Egasidomete had held its forerunner, the Tannhauser Gate district. The two legislators given the highest honor possible in the Empire had been her predecessors in her seat.

She would have to work very hard to be worthy of that. Very hard indeed.

She strode into the entrance, and turned toward a private elevator; she was stopped, briefly, before presenting the temporary access pass she’d been sent. A young, fresh-faced page with curly red hair greeted her.

“Welcome to the Legislature, Ms. Armac,” the teenager said. “Do you know how to get to the Floor Leader’s office?”

“Top floor, right?”

“That’s right, ma’am.”

“Thank you, um….”

“Inna, ma’am.”

“Thank you, Inna. I look forward to seeing you around.”

Inna shook her head slightly, sending the mop of curls swinging side-to-side. “Sorry I won’t be able to; last day of my internship here. Off to college next.”

“Really? Where are you going?” Loona said, holding the lift door open.

“Senedj I University,” Inna said, with a shy smile.

“Excellent school,” Loona said, which was an understatement; Senedj I and Tannhauser Gate were the consensus top two universities on Archavia. “If you’re here, I assume you’re Interested in public affairs?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Excellent. Well then, Inna, I hope to see you back here someday,” Loona said, shaking the page’s wrist.

“Thank you, Ms. Armac,” Inna said, somewhat surprised. Politicians were usually cordial to pages, but she couldn’t remember one who’d actually shown an actual, honest interest in her. Well…at least, not of a Platonic nature.

Loona slipped onto the elevator, and looked out as it zipped up one of the four major supports of the legislative building. There were offices all the way up, not for legislators, but for legislative staff. The Floor Leader and the cabinet had their offices in this building, as did the leaders of the caucuses. Everyone else was through the tunnel, across the street. Loona would be picking her office out in three days, and she had resigned herself to one on a lower level.

The doors opened, and she stepped out into the large reception area of the Floor Leader, itself larger than her office would be. It was designed to be intimidating; she resolved not to be intimidated.

She strode up to the receptionist, checking the clock. One minute early. Perfect.

“Hello,” Loona said. “I’m Loona Armac, I’m here to meet with the Floor Leader.”

“Hello, Representative-elect Armac,” the man said, barely looking up. “I’ve got some things for you,” he added, grabbing a small folder from a stack of identical folders. “Your voting and ID card are in here, as is your keycard – you’ll be here tomorrow for the orientation?”

“29:30, right?”

“That’s right. Go on into the waiting room there – there’s water and mosaberry juice if you’d like any. I know the Floor Leader is busy, but he should be with you shortly.”

Loona nodded; she was quite unsurprised that Zeramblin would make her cool her heels for a bit. He was Floor Leader; it was a rather simple power play, designed to remind her of that. She wasn’t bothered. She walked into the opulent reception area, placed her cards in her breast pocket, and sat down. She could wait.

* * *

Back in an oceanfront hotel, new staffers wrapped up their business. “Well, that about does it for today,” Aya Marek said. “I think we did well. Kroi should be a fine deputy policy director.”

“Yeah, I’m disappointed in Omusia. I still think….”

“Ammer, even if you weren’t majordomo, I wouldn’t hire him after the way he acted. Doesn’t matter how smart he is.”

Ammer chuckled. Aya was in her mid-forties, and an accomplished legislative staffer. She knew the ins and outs of the legislature, and while she’d never been a chief before, she’d been press spokesperson for the Minister of Education during the Dindraves administration. She was very quick on her feet, very good at schmoozing the press – and while she was happy with her new title, she was actively disinterested in running the day-to-day operations of an office.

“I just hate to eliminate every bigot,” he said. “Some of them are still smart.”

“Yes, but so what? There are plenty of smart non-bigots, too. I like them more.”

He thought that was why the boss had hired her, really. Loona was setting things up where Marek would be responsible for wining and dining the press and being the Titan face of her staff, while Ammer oversaw operations and plotted strategy. It left Ammer Loona’s de facto chief of staff, without exposing her too much. It was a smart play by the boss. He was rather impressed.

“Yeah, me too,” Ammer said. “Well, thanks, Ms. Marek. I hate to bother you, but….”

“I would be happy to give you a lift to your room, Ammer, and for the last time, call me Aya. I agree, everyone else should show deference. But you don’t have to show me deference. I view you and I as equals.”

“Thanks, Aya. That…I know that’s rare. I appreciate it.”

“You shouldn’t have to express appreciation for someone treating you like a person,” Aya said, offering a hand. “I hope to see the day when you don’t.”

* * *

Loona only had to wait about half an hour before a young Ler staffer entered the room. “The Floor Leader will see you now!” he bellowed.

“Thank you!” Loona roared back, and followed the staffer back to the double-doors of the Floor Leader’s main office. The Ler pressed the door chime, and waited for just a moment. There was a buzz, and the door opened.

The Ler opened the door, and waived Loona in. He then walked next to her across the room.

“Representative-elect Armac to see you, Mr. Floor Leader!”

“Excellent,” Zeramblin said, not looking up. “Thanks, Flnggtakh.”

As the Ler began to walk away, Zeramblin stood up about half-way, gesturing to a chair with one hand while reaching out his other. “Well, Ms. Armac. Must admit, I’m surprised to be meeting you.”

Loona grabbed his wrist, and smiled a winning smile. “Mr. Floor Leader, it’s an honor. And it’s true. I’m full of surprises.”

Zeramblin laughed as Loona sat down – an actual laugh, not a forced chuckle. “That you are, Ms. Armac. Can I get you anything? Water? Hustain?”

“I’m fine, Mr. Floor Leader, thank you.”

Zeramblin looked across the desk, and leaned back. “Armac, I’ve gotta hand it to you. I had this thing all planned out with Tannhauser, and you went and fraked me good. Shaka, all Zapat had to do is not quote Garma Fraking Gleebo, and I would have engineered the first conservative win in Tannhauser West in eight hundred years. At the least, it would’ve been close. But gorram, you ran a good race. Gotta hand it to you.”

Loona gave the floor leader a half-smile. “Well, I had help.”

“I know, your pet human. Hear you’re making him majordomo. You sure that’s how you want to start your career? I know, I’m not the guy you’re gonna listen to, but it’s gonna turn some folks off around here.”

“I understand that. Are you one of them, Mr. Floor Leader?” Loona asked.

Zeramblin gave a half-smile back. A rather sharp retort from a back-bencher. He admired the chutzpah. “No, Armac, I know enough Titan majordomos. Humans are cute, at least.”

“You haven’t met Ammer.”

“Well, probably won’t. Don’t meet many majordomos, at least not of back-benchers. But if you’re gonna go ahead with this, he’ll be treated like anyone else’s majordomo. Now, this is not because I think he’s my equal – he isn’t – but out of professional courtesy to you.”

“Well, I appreciate that, Mr. Floor Leader,” Loona said.

“And don’t think this means anyone’s gonna be soft on fraking human rights. Author whatever you want, it’s never coming to the floor.”

“I’m quite aware of that,” Loona said. “To use a phrase from one of my friend Nonah’s books, I’m not going to go jousting at windmills. I’m a first-term legislator. I have to work for my district’s interests.”

“Right,” Zeramblin said. He looked at her as if appraising her. He nodded. “Now, officially, I’m supposed to offer you a chance to join the majority. And if you do, I’ll let you in, but you and I both know you’re gonna join one of the liberal ones in opposition. Forward?”

“Aspire,” Loona said.

“All right then. I’ll inform Rep. Pron to expect you tomorrow morning before orientation; he’ll be happy to have you.”

“Thank you, Mr. Floor Leader,” Loona said. She was unsurprised when Zeramblin rose; there was not much more to be said.

“Armac,” Zeramblin said, offering a hand, “you’re on the other side of the chamber, but in a bit more than a week, you’ll be one of us, officially. Now, I’m gonna try to kick your teeth in, and you’re gonna try to kick mine in, but I doubt that surprises you. You’re smart. You know how the game goes. But with the exception of the jerkwads in the Titan Party, we’re all loyal citizens of the Emperor and this Empire. I look forward to working with you when I can, and against you when I must.”

“As do I, Mr. Floor Leader,” Loona said. “As do I.”

* * *

Seven days later, Loona sat on a bench in the large, circular House Chamber. She looked up to the galleries; her parents were up there, as was Naskia; she had smuggled Nonah in (there were no pets allowed in the gallery, but Nonah had insisted). Aya was in the staff alcoves under the gallery, sitting with Ammer; most majordomos and chiefs were back there. She looked over her shoulder, and nodded. Zeramblin had been good as his word. While Ammer got quizzical stares and outright disdain from many, he was given all the rights of a senior legislative staffer to a junior legislator. As he deserved.

The Chair of the House rang the bell, and began to move through opening business. There was the recitation of the Imperial Pledge, a brief moment for reflection. And then the Chair turned to look at Zeramblin.

“The chair recognizes the Representative from Wedney.”

“Thank you, Mister Chair,” Zeramblin said. “Mister Chair, I ask that the members be given the oath of office.”

“The Representative from Wedney asks that the members be given their oath of office. Without objection, the members shall rise.”

Loona stood, as did all 999 of her colleagues. She crossed her arms over her chest, and repeated after the chair.

“I do affirm that I will support and defend the Emperor and the Empire of Archavia and All Its Possessions; That I will observe and promote obedience to Imperial law; That I will promote the welfare, safety, liberty, and dignity of all Imperial citizens, and; That I will serve the peoples of the Empire to the best of my capability for so long as I serve in this office.”

“Congratulations, representatives,” the chair said. “You may be seated. The clerk will take the roll, all members present, please indicate so by voting in the affirmative.”

Loona slid her voting card into the slot in front of her and pressed the blue “Aye” button on the touchscreen, and looked back up at the chair. Behind him, a toteboard showed her name – “Y Apzαк – Ѱ϶.”

Her first vote as a representative. The first of many.

It was a proud moment, but just that – a moment. She’d meant what she’d said on election nigh; this was just the beginning. If she meant to serve the peoples of the Empire to the best of her capability, she would have to fight for her district, and yes, for human rights. It would mean a lot of hard work, and a lot of patience, and a smart strategy. But she had a good strategist on her side, and she had never been opposed to hard work. She’d make it happen.

Hours later, she sat in her office, studying the schedule Ammer had laid out for tomorrow, when her pad chirped.

“Boss?”

“Yes, Ammer?” It was, just perhaps, not ideal that Ammer had moved his house into his office. She and he were the only two left in her office suite. She did hope to get home at some point, and get some sleep.

“You have a visitor. I sent her back; she’s a fellow legislator.”

“Oh?” Loona said, sitting up straight. “Who?”

Loona’s door opened. “Who do you think, dear?”

Loona grinned, and gestured to a chair. “Pryvani – Senator Tarsuss, I should say – it’s good to see you. Can I get you anything?”

“No, darling, Zhan’s back at the house, and he’s got his hands full. I can’t stay long. But I did want to stop by and say hello before I darted back to Avalon.”

Loona stood up, and not caring about the formality of it, pulled Pryvani Tarsuss into a hug. “Thanks,” Loona said, blinking back tears. “Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad to have played my small part,” Pryvani said. “And I’m looking forward to seeing what you can accomplish, Rep. Armac. I suspect it will be grand.”

“I’ll do my best,” Loona said.

“Well then,” Pryvani said. “It will be grand indeed.”