Humanity Endures

Part 2 - The Senate | Chapter 1

"We are the rulers of the Empire's worlds, the most powerful people in the galaxy, and all we're doing with this power is wasting each other's time! Were it not against the constitution, I'd call for a motion to disband the Senate; as it is, I'll instead politely ask, again, for the opposition to shut up and stop reading the damn bill for the tenth time so that we can finally vote on the fucking thing! These assemblies are long enough without you purposefully making them longer!"

— Lassarha Tekran, disparaging the Senate for allowing a 38 hour-long assembly.

***

Extending before her, an effulgent array of gold, gemstones, and countless other wasteful aesthetic trifles accompanied over fifty thousand of the galaxy's most powerful people, all of whom had been specially gathered for the sake of wasting time; the very thought of it made Lassarha sick. Rows upon rows of gilded benches, overshadowed by lustrous chandeliers, surrounded by equally well-decorated guards and sat upon by countless planetary consuls or space station commanders, bore witness to the galaxy's government as it resolved legislative issues with all the speed of an intoxicated MMFA.

Lassarha had a planet to run — most others in the Senate did as well — and yet, despite this, she had spent the last ten hours listening to people deliver impassioned oration on whether the government should or should not increase the minimum width of doors in warships. Lassarha, her short, jet-black mane of hair reminiscent of her time as one of the few Tekran marines in the Empire's military, whose imposing presence was painfully confined to a bench, and whose flowing, purple-and-gold robe more often than not reflected light into her own eyes, felt more like the incarnation of misery rather than authority. As planetary consul of Tehkria, and with a great talent for politics and governance unusual even among Tekran, Lassarha was adored by most, and feared by the rest — she could hardly ask for more in return for her thirty years of work on expanding her world's military, influence, and economic power, only that this excellent position would translate to expediency. As nothing ever translated to expediency on Earth, she had been sitting there for well over ten hours.

The quarrelsome collection of powerful people that was the Senate only treated the Imperator with such respect and reverence as they did Lassarha, and indeed, only the Imperator had more power than she. However, the Imperator's throne in the Senatorial Chamber, where he would have sat if he were paid attention to the inner workings of his own nation rather than preferring to play with his Military Council, lay empty, as it always did — it was clear that Lassarha was the most important person in the entire room, and this had been true for some time. It was in that moment that, to Lassarha's hopelessly bored mind, came the idea that she could abuse her vast power if she so willed — no one would dare challenge her over a breach of protocol, after all, and none could fault her for wanting to expedite things. Better still, the person currently speaking was unimportant enough that she could finally inject herself into the proceedings without offending someone noteworthy.

Her back going stiff, and her eyes growing tired of the overwhelming decor of the Senatorial Chamber, Lassarha, before one of the members opposite her had even finished their banal speech, swiftly stood from her seat; the simple action utterly silenced the unimaginably vast chamber before her, even quieting the speaker, who was mid-sentence, without so much as a whimper of protest. All eyes were on her, and all ears eagerly anticipated what she had to say.

Lassarha said nothing for the first few moments following her standing, the silence and authoritative stance she held, and how the Senate submissively responded to it, serving to strengthen her imminent words immensely; for a supposedly egalitarian body, where the station commander of the most destitute grouping of space stations was equal to the voice of an affluent planetary consul, the influence she held over many of her compatriots was remarkable. Interrupting the speaker had been both a trivial, and a very strategic, move: Lassarha knew that if she didn't exercise her authority and position often, she would inevitably lose both. Inhaling deeply, filling her genetically-enhanced lungs with enough air to orate, unceasing, for a full ten minutes, Lassarha began her speech with a tone of clarity, and sarcasm.