government’s troops in a declaration of war on the Rojok tyrant Mangus Lo. The alternative is that you will fight not only the Rojok, but the Centaurian Empire, as well. The vanguard of our military is the Holconcom,” he added in a soft threat. “Some of you may remember how they put down revolutions in our planetary space. And how they deal with enemies. The choice is yours. Help me rescue my daughter and stop Mangus Lo’s aggression, or face the consequences. I will expect a reply within one standard hour.”
A long, heavy silence fell over the room. Lawson watched idealism die in the eyes of the diplomats, giving way to what was undeniably fear.
The Terravegan ambassador stood up. “May I speak?” he asked Lokar.
“You may. I present the human ambassador from the Terravegan colonies, Giles Mourjey.”
“Honorable Chairman, members of the Council,” Mourjey began, his eyes sweeping among the male and female delegates of the Tri-Galaxy Council, one of whom was an imposing Centaurian female named Karimasa. “The only force standing against the Rojok invasion of the New Territory has been the Royal Legion of Terravega, with some small assistance from the Altairian and Jebob militaries. I think it goes without saying that the human regiments of the Tri-Fleet have made the larger sacrifice of men and women. You may also have heard of Ahkmau , the Rojok death camp, where two million human soldiers have been systematically tortured to death in Mangus Lo’s insane lust for galactic conquest. With all due respect, delegates, while you were pursing the idealism of interracial harmony with your clones on Terramer, the Royal Legion of Terravega’s Strategic Space Command was pursuing a different goal. It was enforcing the only war vote of any member planetary systems in this Council, standing against a bloodthirsty dictator who’s already enslaved two planetary systems that declared neutrality. The humans have been decimated by Rojok attacks in the New Territory!”
A dark green, slender delegate stood up quickly. “What he says is not true,” the delegate, a Vegan colonial, growled. “The Meg-Vegan High Council also issued a war vote and our Guards even now fight with the humans.”
“Yes, indeed, Ambassador,” Mourjey replied, “in rec halls on bases all over the three civilized galaxies, they fight with us. But on the battle lines, they turn around and run!”
The Vegan turned dusky under his green skin, but he didn’t deny the charge. Instead he sat down, smoldering.
Mourjey faced the Council. “Delegates, the human colonies aregetting damned tired of fighting this unholy war virtually alone. If it’s peace you want, if you hope to retain your own planetary systems, you’ll have to crawl out of your holes and fight for them! If you’d rather not involve yourselves in the danger, then by all means, go home and learn to speak Rojok. That is, if the Rojoks don’t take the New Territory before you have the time, and throw the lot of us into Mangus Lo’s sonic ovens!” He sat down.
Lawson swung around and got to his feet. “He’s right,” he said. “I’ve tried to tell you delegates that the conflict can’t rock on like this. I’ve only got five hundred thousand men left in the Strategic Space Command of my Royal Legion, out of the five million I started with. We’ve lost ships, we’ve lost supply transports, we’re even now patching comm units into neutral ships because we’re losing outposts by the day. I need help, or the Rojoks are going to grab the solar systems in the New Territory. If they do that, its mineral resources and colonization possibilities and water resources and fertile farming plains are going to be dead to us. Our overflow populations and dwindling energy and food stores will send some of us into oblivion as a race, and the Rojoks won’t have to fire a single shot to accomplish our demise.”
“You might also remember the Spheres that were captured by the Rojoks,”
A long, heavy silence fell over the room. Lawson watched idealism die in the eyes of the diplomats, giving way to what was undeniably fear.
The Terravegan ambassador stood up. “May I speak?” he asked Lokar.
“You may. I present the human ambassador from the Terravegan colonies, Giles Mourjey.”
“Honorable Chairman, members of the Council,” Mourjey began, his eyes sweeping among the male and female delegates of the Tri-Galaxy Council, one of whom was an imposing Centaurian female named Karimasa. “The only force standing against the Rojok invasion of the New Territory has been the Royal Legion of Terravega, with some small assistance from the Altairian and Jebob militaries. I think it goes without saying that the human regiments of the Tri-Fleet have made the larger sacrifice of men and women. You may also have heard of Ahkmau , the Rojok death camp, where two million human soldiers have been systematically tortured to death in Mangus Lo’s insane lust for galactic conquest. With all due respect, delegates, while you were pursing the idealism of interracial harmony with your clones on Terramer, the Royal Legion of Terravega’s Strategic Space Command was pursuing a different goal. It was enforcing the only war vote of any member planetary systems in this Council, standing against a bloodthirsty dictator who’s already enslaved two planetary systems that declared neutrality. The humans have been decimated by Rojok attacks in the New Territory!”
A dark green, slender delegate stood up quickly. “What he says is not true,” the delegate, a Vegan colonial, growled. “The Meg-Vegan High Council also issued a war vote and our Guards even now fight with the humans.”
“Yes, indeed, Ambassador,” Mourjey replied, “in rec halls on bases all over the three civilized galaxies, they fight with us. But on the battle lines, they turn around and run!”
The Vegan turned dusky under his green skin, but he didn’t deny the charge. Instead he sat down, smoldering.
Mourjey faced the Council. “Delegates, the human colonies aregetting damned tired of fighting this unholy war virtually alone. If it’s peace you want, if you hope to retain your own planetary systems, you’ll have to crawl out of your holes and fight for them! If you’d rather not involve yourselves in the danger, then by all means, go home and learn to speak Rojok. That is, if the Rojoks don’t take the New Territory before you have the time, and throw the lot of us into Mangus Lo’s sonic ovens!” He sat down.
Lawson swung around and got to his feet. “He’s right,” he said. “I’ve tried to tell you delegates that the conflict can’t rock on like this. I’ve only got five hundred thousand men left in the Strategic Space Command of my Royal Legion, out of the five million I started with. We’ve lost ships, we’ve lost supply transports, we’re even now patching comm units into neutral ships because we’re losing outposts by the day. I need help, or the Rojoks are going to grab the solar systems in the New Territory. If they do that, its mineral resources and colonization possibilities and water resources and fertile farming plains are going to be dead to us. Our overflow populations and dwindling energy and food stores will send some of us into oblivion as a race, and the Rojoks won’t have to fire a single shot to accomplish our demise.”
“You might also remember the Spheres that were captured by the Rojoks,”
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