The new council

Sola drifted outside the newly constructed orbital facility that hung like a obsidian jewel against the rich glow of Sol. The spire itself was technically in Earth’s orbital plane - constructed in the month since the battle with a core made from the recycled hulks of those craft that had been destroyed by the Durathisians, and placed on the far side of Sol from the homeworld. It was still a work in progress - but it was already seeing use as a place where envoys could meet to discuss things in the new council that was forming.

Linne and Veil’k had already made themselves at home, as had Re’x. To Emely’s delight, Earth’s insistence on habitation not being segregated by species had led to the Vex’ess and Rabyth dignitaries quietly but firmly choosing a joint cabin - albeit one with two offices to allow them to conduct their own race’s business separately when needed.

Standing on the top deck of the spire, wearing a space suit for protection where the hull was still incomplete, Dustin stared out at the distant light of Sol, then down to his ship where it floated beyond the docking ports. At present, the station just wasn’t equipped to handle larger ships - a downside to using recycled materials - but the plans he’d seen meant that was unlikely to be an issue by the next time he visited his birth star. Turning, he crossed the deck to the elevator, magnetic clamps on his boots holding him to the open construction site before he descended; once the doors had shut, air rushed into the lift and his suit beeped to tell him it was safe to open his helmet.

Stepping out of the lift and into the main concourse of the station a short ride later, tucking his helmet under one arm Dustin walked towards what everyone was calling the council chamber. Technically, it was officially labelled as large meeting room number three - intended for lectures and group discussion with key speakers, it comprised a wide semicircle of tiered seating around a central podium not too dissimilar from the council chambers where the Durathisians had launched their coup. There were, as the name suggested, several of those rooms on the station already constructed, and more on the way - but the reason room three was viewed as the council chamber specifically was down to it’s location.

The wide doors and arches that led into the chamber were equidistant from the residences of the majority of the species who had already deployed envoys to Earth’s system. It wasn’t just the Vex’ess, Rabyth and Velca who had dignitaries present; the l’Adra representative had arrived shortly after the battle for Earth, four limbs practically trembling with rage at how Earth had been treated, while the Yuran had been mid-migration to Earth space already. Their envoy arrived with both her own and a human family as entourage, catlike and human children darting here and there over the station and brightening up the newly constructed walls with endless chatter, not to mention a sizable amount of chalk and crayon graffiti of flowers and animals.

The Feliax envoy in stark contrast was standoffish and curt in Dustin’s dealings with her. Emely explained why shortly after the arrival of her race’s representative. The newcomer, a woman with sleek black and purple fur, was the daughter of one of the largest Duchies opposed to the Empress’s reforms. As this was an official envoy position, it was a high honour - and one she couldn’t decline, nor could she do a bad job of it without bringing dishonour on her house. But equally, it removed a powerful piece not only from their homeworld but from the potential of intermarrying prides to strengthen the houses hostile to Emely’s aunt. Masterful statesmanship, even if Dustin did have to now deal with the woman scowling at him whenever she thought he wasn’t paying attention.

He had worried that she might leak information to the Durathisians to weaken Liselia’s position - until he’d heard her in council. She’d been quite clear that her personal issues with the Empress were not to do with social matters unlike her matriarch - while she disagreed with some of the new ideas and ‘tolerance of disgusting behaviour’ that Liselia was allowing, in the current situation her main issue was that the Feliax fleet wasn’t immediately being deployed to purge the Durathisian homeworld for their insults against the goddess Felio, galactic peace, and the envoy’s family. Not necessarily in that order.

The room was occupied when Dustin arrived; every envoy that was currently on the station was seated, while Axworth went over the daily briefing. Dropping into a spare seat in the viewing gallery to watch, along with a handful of others from the station, Dustin relaxed. There didn’t seem to be much, if anything new in the report - it was all the unclassified material in any case as this was a public session. Confidential matters would be passed on via data packs to the various dignitaries at a later point in any case. Catching Dustin’s eye, Axworth reached the end of outlining the current progress on the station and the latest reports from the Velca and paused.

“And, of course, our ambassador will shortly be resuming his mission. We will, naturally be supplying you all with detailed reports as that progresses - although I hope this time he won’t discover any more galactic threats. We do have rather a lot on our plates already.” The General’s tone was jovial, and Dustin stood and was about to reply that he’d try not to when the Feliax envoy’s seat lit up, indicating she wished to speak.

Bowing his head as he was technically only an observer, Dustin watched as the woman rose to her full height, tails puffed behind her as she did every time she was called on in council. “This is all well and good, General, but what of this news I am hearing of discontent on Mars? Is this something we should be concerned with?”

Axworth coughed, looking rather embarrassed as the other envoys all turned to stare at him once more. “A minor matter. Not even as much of an argument as the debates between houses on your homeworld. Some individuals who have no foresight and believe we should overextend our military - none of whom have ever even trained for warfare.”

This was the first Dustin had heard of malcontent in Sol space, and he made a note to catch up with Axworth afterwards to find out what was going on; the last time humanity had been divided had been during the construction of the orbitals… and he’d had his own losses to suffer as a result of that division. The rest of the meeting was far more normal - trade discussions, details about the contact that had been made with other races humanity had helped who had not yet joined the new council, that kind of thing.

It was over an hour after the briefing had finished that Dustin was able to catch Axworth alone. The General sighed when Dustin asked directly about what was going on. “It’s nothing, really. Just a bunch of jumped up idiots with a few flags and banners that seem to think us winning one battle is a sign we should do what the Durathisians are claiming to do, and make the universe into our personal protectorate. Never mind the fact that we don’t have the industry to support that, or the manpower to do it. Don’t worry about them - I’ve got the situation well in hand, and there’s no sympathy for those clowns amongst the military which would be worthy of real concern.”

Dustin wasn’t entirely convinced by the General’s words - similar things had been said about the groups that had cost him his parents, but it wasn’t something he could do anything about for the time being. He trusted Axworth to keep an eye on any serious threats from within at any rate, and so had to focus on his own mission. He couldn’t be everywhere at once, however much he might want to, and so Dustin headed down to the shuttle back to Sola in a pensive mood. His ship was fully repaired, the hull damage not even visible after Rye’s team had worked their magic, and her stores were fully replenished. It was time to head out into the galaxy once again.