He was a soldier, not a politician. Xavier Harkonnen knew military tactics and strategies, had planned to devote his life to service in the Salusan Militia and the League Armada. But now he had no choice but to speak before the gathered League representatives in the Hall of Parliament.

After the bittersweet victory on Giedi Prime, some things needed to be said.

The old Parliament building had been shored up and repaired, while the remnants of scaffolding and temporary walls marked where reconstruction had not yet been completed. Plazstone, pillars, and mural walls were still marked with cracks and obvious patchwork. Battle scars, badges of honor.

Shortly before the young officer’s scheduled address, Viceroy Butler had stood beside his stoic wife on the floor of Parliament as they participated in a memorial service for Serena and the fallen comrades in her Giedi Prime rescue mission.

“She died doing exactly what she demanded of herself, and of us,” the Viceroy said. “A light has gone out in our lives.”

In the year since the cymek attack on Salusa, the people had endured many funerals and too much grief. But Serena, the fiery young representative, had always insisted that the League serve the people and help those in need.

Beside the Viceroy, Livia Butler wore her contemplation robes from the City of Introspection. She had already watched her only son Fredo waste away from his blood disease; now her eldest daughter had been killed by the thinking machines. She had only ethereal young Octa left of her children.

Representatives of the League Worlds remained silent and respectful, sharing in the sadness. Despite her youth, Serena Butler had made a lasting impression with her idealism and exuberance. After the formal eulogy many speakers took turns at the podium to praise her acts of generosity.

Xavier listened to the tributes. The representatives looked at him compassionately. He thought of the life he and Serena had meant to share.

For her sake, though, Xavier had not, and would not, shed tears openly. If the human race wept for all those who had fallen, they would be paralyzed in an unending state of grief. His lips trembled, and his vision blurred, but he forced himself to be strong. It was his duty. Although his heart grieved, Xavier’s mind turned to furious thoughts of the enemy, and of traitorous human sympathizers who fought beside the robots.

His memory of Serena would be his constant source of strength and inspiration. Even in death, she would drive him to achievements that he never could have attained without her. He still had the black diamond necklace that projected her last message to him, her brave call to arms to help Giedi Prime. Lovely Serena would watch over him always— as she did now, when he was about to rally the resources and military might of the angry masses.

Shaken and grim, Xavier stepped into the projection dome, followed by a sallow-skinned Viceroy Butler. Both men wore silver-and-blue robes and capes, with black headbands in honor of their fallen loved one.

It was time for the continuing business of humanity.

After his recent military success, he needed little introduction. “We are human beings, and have always fought for our rights and our dignity. We formed the League of Nobles so that free men could resist the Titans, and after them the thinking machines. Only by standing united have we been able to stop the headlong conquests of our enemies.” He scanned the representatives seated in the crowded hall. “But at times the League is its own worst enemy.”

The attendees respected this hero too much to argue, and Xavier continued quickly and concisely. “While we pay lip service to our alliance, the League Worlds remain self-centered and independent. When a beleaguered planet calls for help, the League debates and agonizes for months before we decide on our response— until it is too late! We saw that on Giedi Prime. Only Serena’s folly forced us to act swiftly enough to make a difference. She knew exactly what she was doing, and paid for it with her life.”

When a few of the representatives began to mutter, Xavier’s skin grew hot and he silenced them with a booming voice. “The League of Nobles must form a stronger coalition under streamlined leadership. To be effective against a highly organized computer evermind, we need a closely knit government of humans, better than this loose structure.” He waved his hands as he spoke.

“As Serena Butler advocated, we must make every effort to secure the cooperation of the Unallied Planets, thus strengthening our defensive framework and adding a buffer zone to our protected territory.”

Viceroy Butler stepped close beside him and added in a voice cracking with emotion, “That was always my daughter’s dream. Now we must make it ours.”

Several uncertain nobles rose in respectful dissent. A lean, hard-looking woman from Kirana III said, “Bringing so many worlds together under tight rule, especially in a military guise, reminds me of the Time of Titans.”

A small-statured nobleman from Hagal shouted, “No more empires!”

Xavier raised his own voice. “Isn’t an empire better than extinction? While you worry about political nuances, Omnius is conquering star systems!”

But another said, “For centuries the League of Nobles and Synchronized Worlds have held each other at bay, in an uneasy equilibrium. Omnius has never pressed beyond the boundaries of the Old Empire. We always assumed the thinking machines didn’t consider it efficient or worthwhile. Why should that change now?”

“For whatever reason, it has changed! The thinking machines seem intent on genocide.” Xavier clenched his fists; he had not expected to argue over this, when the evidence was so obvious. “Must we cower behind our paper-thin defense and simply react whenever Omnius chooses to test us? As we did here on Salusa a year ago, as we did on Giedi Prime?”

In a dramatic outburst, he hefted the podium and sent it crashing through one side of the dome enclosure. The front row of nobles scrambled away from the shower of broken prismatic glass. Shocked representatives yelled that Xavier’s behavior was uncalled-for; others summoned security guards to remove the distraught officer from the hall.

Stepping through the broken enclosure, Xavier shouted without the benefit of a voice amplifier, “Good! That’s the kind of spirit I want to see! The League has been cringing for too long. I have spoken with other Armada commanders, and most of us agree: We need to change our tactics and surprise the machines. We should spend whatever money is necessary, recruit the imagination of all our scientists, and develop new weapons— weapons suitable for destroying Omnius, not just to protect us here at home. One day, I believe we must go on the offensive! It is the only way we can win this conflict.”

Gradually, the assemblage understood that Xavier had intentionally provoked a reaction. With a polished boot, he kicked broken debris off the stage. “Experience is our best teacher. The machines could attack Salusa again at any moment, or Poritrin, or Rossak, or Hagal, Ginaz, Kirana III, Seneca, Vertree Colony, Relicon— need I go on? None of our worlds are safe.” He raised a scolding finger. “But if we turn the tables, we can drive the aggressors back with bold, unforeseen moves.” He paused. “Do we have the nerve to do it? Can we develop the weapons to succeed? The time for complacency is past.”

In the ensuing discussion, Zufa Cenva offered more telepathy raids against cymeks. Many more prime Sorceress candidates had already volunteered, she said. Lord Niko Bludd bragged of the continuing work of Tio Holtzman, who planned to test a new “alloy resonator” soon. Other League representatives offered suggestions, targets, ways to strengthen their position.

Relieved and inspired, Xavier gazed around the assemblage. He had shamed them into a show of boisterous support, and the voices of dissent— for now— remained subdued.

Unbidden tears ran down his face, and he tasted salt on his lips. Drained of emotion and energy, he noticed Viceroy Butler looking proudly at him, as if the young man were his son.

I am assuming the mantle of Serena, Xavier realized, doing what she would have done.