John tried maintaining his composure as the UEF shuttle connected to the Meridian Gate alongside the Solemn Accord and several squadrons of Katar fighters with their broad two pronged hulls and intimidating blood red paint. The Meridian Gate shot the entire diplomatic envoy forward through space and filled John with an electric feeling which flushed through his body. It felt like the rush of a roller coaster.

  That feeling of the Meridian Gate—it was like being swallowed up by a ripple in space that sent little electrical shocks up and down his legs and chest. The sensation pulled at his skin and made the hairs on his arms stand up. The shuttle vibrated with a low frequency buzzing and resonated in his sternum as they aligned with the ring’s aperture. Ambassador Crowe sat stone-faced to his left. Her fingers twitched against her seat rest. To the right, Ambassador Vel’Sem’s glassy eyes remained still and unblinking.

  Then it hit him, a snap of static across John’s skin. It felt electric, intimate, and alive. Every nerve fired at once.

  They emerged in a corridor of motion. For an hour their ship sailed across the galactic highway. It wasn’t the instantaneous jump John had expected.

  Samantha was so excited she practically assaulted Ambassador Vel’Sem who patiently answered all fifty-seven of her questions. Before long they emerged in an entirely alien solar system teeming with life.

  Their diplomatic envoy merged into a massive interstellar highway simply referred to as the traffic block. It was sixteen lanes by sixteen stuffed with everything from small four person family shuttles to much larger super freighters which carried goods in gargantuan containers. Every vessel cruised in a controlled formation.

  Police cruisers flew back and forth on the exterior and responded to accidents. The lanes flexed and curved in a coordinated ballet, either continuing forward in the traffic block or peeling away at an exit lane which sailed down toward an orbital, a moon, or one of the different planet’s atmospheres.

  Each new jump through the Meridian Gate came with a similar energized acceleration, taking about an hour to travel between gates each time. After the tenth hop, John’s stomach didn’t churn as much. His thoughts were focused on the road ahead of them.

  Then came the capital planet of Abbeylara.

  The moment their shuttle descended down into Abbeylara’s atmosphere, John saw a green and golden world veined with cities that sprouted with great white spires of moonstone. Great terraces draped around the sides of hills and mountains like a woman’s skirt. Their shuttle angled down toward the city; it was a latticework of terraces, arching towers, and skybridges draped in flowering vines and polished alloy. Water spilled from some spires down into beautiful decorated viewing pools surrounded by ornate gardens of alien flora.

  Their shuttle landed on the top terrace of the tallest tower in the region. On every level, thousands of finely dressed diplomats and servants walked in crowds, hurrying themselves to their next meeting. Many funneled into the great chamber at the top of the spire.

  Upon landing, the magnetic shuttle clamps connected and the shuttle’s airlock opened. Everyone in their diplomatic envoy stepped outside.

  John was greeted by a slap of warm wind and the smell of something fragrant, floral, and vaguely chemical.

  Ambassador Vel’Sem motioned for John and Sam to follow.

  Their boots echoed on the stone. They walked through diplomatic gates carved with shifting holograms which depicted historical treaties, planetary unifications, and peace accords older than Earth’s civilization. The Grand Diplomatic Hall stood ahead, its doors carved of radiant amethyst mineral-glass. Chromium Honor Sentinels stood twelve feet tall and guarded the doors. Their faces were mirrored masks. Although mostly motionless, their heads swiveled every slightly to inspect each passing person.

  Samantha Crowe walked like she belonged. John didn’t. Every step closer to the council chamber made the weight in John’s stomach heavier. Was it awe? Or was he feeling doubt?

  Inside, the Galactic Council waited—the eyes of a thousand diplomats discussed business in groups around the stage and amongst the private alcoves whose whispered conversations were distorted by the sounds of trickling waterfalls. John didn’t feel like a visitor. He felt like a prisoner who had to justify his existence in a world filled with groups much more powerful than Earth’s humanity.

  On the far end of the chambers, three Galactic Counselors sat half-shrouded in light on a semi-circular dais. John spotted a Human of Eden, a Cortari Shardhost in a male human host body, and a reptilian species with a thick tail that swayed behind him like an alligator and a face just as ugly and mean.

  “What is that?” John said.

  “Lord-Ka Varnok Tal, Voice of the God-King,” said Vel’Sem. “He is a Malkrathi.”

  They stood around for a few minutes and people-watched, but soon Ambassador Vel’Sem motioned John and Sam onto the stage in front of the Galactic Council.

  John didn’t have anything prepared, that was up to Sam who was supposed to lead the conversation. He eyed the exits in case things went really bad. In those moments on stage, his mouth felt dry and he was a little nauseous. He really hoped they wouldn’t speak to him at all.

  Samantha spoke. “Councilors, Delegates, Guardians of the Dependency. We do not come to beg for inclusion into your great empire. We offer integrity. We offer courage. We offer duty. We offer sacrifice. We offer the strength and spirit of humanity.”

  “You are welcomed in this chamber,” said the Cortari Councilor.

  Councilor Lord-Ka spoke. “The Humans of Earth finally activated the Meridian Gate. This is proof of your technological ascendancy. But technology alone is not enough. Will you pledge to fight on behalf of the Dependency and all of its species? This is our home. Every citizen species must do their part to protect it.”

  Sam nodded with reverence. “We offer our humble hands.” She held her palms up. “We come to you as students. We have much to learn.” She formed fists. Her expression hardened. “In our hearts, we are soldiers. We will fight on behalf of all free citizens of the Dependency.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “The Humans of Earth fight wars amongst their own people,” said Councilor Marlen. “How can you have the time and resources to dedicate to the defense of the Dependency? You bicker, thieve, and murder amongst yourselves.” Marlen was the only human councilor. He also seemed the most hostile in John’s eyes who could clearly spot the disdain even from center stage—even through their holo forms.

  “You judge us and throw stones,” John said. “We are still picking up rubble from the Hyperion disaster. How many stones have you dodged to become a Galactic Counselor? Forgive my ignorance, but are the Humans of Eden a unique genetic blend incapable of sin or fault? Are you incapable of forgiveness or empathy? Surely, the Humans of Eden have regrets? Have the Humans of Eden ever been ravaged by Hyperions, standing at the edge of extinction?”

  Councilor Marlen shifted.

  “Millions died,” John continued. “We’re asking for help. We can hold our own. We won’t grovel for an alliance or friendship. We’re dealing with a galactic bully and we need your help putting him down.”

  Councilor Marlen experienced lockjaw which came from a profound sense of embarrassment.

  The air of judgement lingered.

  Councilor Marlen said, “Fine. Everyone has a past.”

  “I want to hear more from the warrior,” said councilor Lord-Ka. “Can you convince us why the Humans of Earth deserve the benefits of Dependency citizenship?”

  Samantha was about to speak, but John cut her off.

  “We already signed the contracts,” John said. “I was under the impression we already bought our ticket to the show. Did we not?”

  “True,” said Lord-Ka. “We still want to hear your answer.”

  “Councilors,” Sam said. “If we could direct the conversation back to me, I would be more than happy to go through a thorough examination of the benefits including—”

  Councilor Lord-Ka Varnok Tal interjected. “—that won’t be necessary, Ambassador Crowe. Commander Drayton, please answer the question. Why does Earth deserve to join the Dependency?”

  They really knew how to rattle his nerves. For the first couple of seconds, he stood there in dead silence and couldn’t think of a single thing. He wanted to talk about shooting guns, or a nice steak, or making love on the beach, but none of that seemed professional or diplomatic, or anything close to what they were expecting. He needed to say something. Only truth would convince them.

  “I’ve always been a soldier,” John said. “I’ve fought on every planet in Solaris across three different tours of duty. You’re right, we fight our own people. We have terrorists. We have bad guys of our own. That’s who I’m used to fighting. I admit, Councilors, I’m getting a little itchy. I’m itching to kill the monsters who attacked Earth. I love fighting for my people. I want justice. I demand freedom. I fight alongside thousands of brave men and women. We all want the same thing. We want the choice to live. We all want to win. We all want what’s best for each other. That’s the kind of people you’re going to get. We’ll tell you how it is. We’re a little blunt, but if the Humans of Eden are anything like the Humans of Earth then you should learn to give us a chance to grow. Give us time. We’ll show you what we can do. You can trust us to do what’s best for humanity and the Dependency as a whole.”

  The Councilors glanced at each other in silence—did he say something wrong? Did he black out from pure nerves and say something truly vile like some horrific slur? The Councilors revealed little emotion. It could have been irritation or apathy. What did he do? Why did he speak so much? He should have rehearsed like Sam or simply walked off the stage and directed their questions to her.

  All three Galactic Councilors pressed buttons on their podiums.

  “The vote has passed,” said Councilor Lord-Ka. “Majority rules in your favor.”

  “We are pleased to accept the Humans of Earth into the galactic community,” said the Cortari Councilor Vel’Rith. “It’s about time. We’ve been rooting for your ascendency for thousands of years. Welcome to the Dependency.”

  “We are humbled and honored,” Sam said. “But I have to ask…what about the matter of the Hyperions? We demand justice.”

  The Galactic Councilors gave each other looks as if communicating through telepathy.

  Councilor Marlen said, “You lack the required support to join the senate which dictates military action. Prove yourself in the galaxy and gain the support required for entrance into the senate. Now that you’re a member of the Dependency, senate majority is required for voting on the Hyperion matter.”

  Sam’s eyes twitched, clearly frustrated. But she nodded and didn’t fight back. “Thank you, Councilors.” She leaned toward John and whispered. “It’s time for us to go. We can speak about this later—in private.”

  John gave a little wave to the Councilors, then to everyone around him. He expected some sort of applause but all he heard was quiet murmuring and uncomfortable silence. They walked off stage and rejoined Ambassador Vel’Sem.

  “Not bad for your first go at diplomacy with the Galactic Council,” Vel’Sem said.

  “I feel like we failed,” Sam said. “We don’t have senators. We don’t have a real voice to build the military support that we need to fight Thariel.”

  “You have armor and a shield. You have citizenship. You can’t direct an offensive, but you have an automatic defensive alliance on your side.”

  “This war is far from over,” John said. “Senate or not, we have to find more information. We have to discover the Hyperion’s weaknesses. We need advantages. We need contacts. We need friends.”

  Ambassador Vel’Sem glanced down at the holoscreen which hovered above his platinum wristband. The message was in a common Dependency text called weave script. “The Galactic Council is calling you back to the stage, Commander Drayton.”

  John turned to Sam. “Can you handle this?”

  “No,” she said. “They requested you.”

  “You can’t be serious,” John said. He glanced at the Galactic Councilors waiting patiently behind their podiums. “I don’t want to go back up there.”

  “You have to, John. I can’t do all the talking. Try not to say anything crazy.”

  “I’ll try not to start another war,” John said.

  “Just do your best,” Sam said. “I believe in you. We all do.”

  Ambassador Vel’Sem motioned John to the stage.

  John did as they wanted—he walked back onto the stage and stood there in the middle of it. He looked toward all the faces who looked back at him. For every nine faces filled with curiosity he found one face which couldn’t have been anything but disdain. He supposed there were people in that chamber who had interests to keep Earth and its colonies out of the Dependency. He didn’t know why just yet because the galaxy was a big and confusing place but he felt the hostility in some of their eyes. It felt like moving into a new neighborhood inside a foreign country where you didn’t speak the language or know the customs and every tenth guy looked like he wanted to kill you and eat you. How far could you go in a galaxy where you couldn’t really trust anyone?