“Speaker Haryanto, representatives of the Franklin global government, and all the citizens of Franklin who are watching this singular legislative event, at home or wherever you may be, greetings,” I began. “I am Lieutenant Heather Lee of the Colonial Defense Forces. I do apologize for my abrupt and unscheduled entrance to your session today, but time was of the essence. I bring you a message from the Colonial Union.
“The Colonial Union knows that today—in fact, right now—this chamber has begun a vote to declare independence from the Colonial Union. We also know that this vote is hotly contested, and is likely to be very close. This is for good reason, as your independence would leave you vulnerable to the predations of any number of alien species who are even now watching, as we are, the result of your vote.
“Through standard channels the Colonial Union has made the government of Franklin aware that we are opposed to this vote. We feel it is dangerous not only to the people and government of Franklin, but also to the Colonial Union at large. We also maintain that such a vote is illegal and that Franklin may not, through legal means, separate itself from the Colonial Union. These points have proved to be unpersuasive to many of you, hence this vote that Speaker Haryanto was about to commence.
“You may believe that I have come here to stop this vote on behalf of the Colonial Union. I have not. The representatives of Franklin, or at least the minority required to bring this vote to the floor, have asked for this vote. The Colonial Union will allow it to proceed. What I am here to do is make you aware of the consequences of this action.”
I paused for effect, just long enough to make them wonder about the consequences, and then began again. “During the lead up to this historic vote, some of you in this chamber—in a manner you believe fitting, given that the name of this colony is taken from the United States of America revolutionary figure Benjamin Franklin—have quoted the United States’ Declaration of Independence, and specifically how you, like those revolutionaries who signed that document, would pledge your lives, your fortunes, and your sacred honors to your own independence.
“Very well.”
I pointed to the drone hovering above my head. “As I have been speaking to you, this drone has identified and targeted every representative in this room, and has fed the information to a Colonial Union ship, which by now has trained high-energy particle weapons on each of you. As the Colonial Union has already declared that this vote is illegal, if and when you vote for independence, you will be offering up an act of treason to the Colonial Union. In doing so, you will lose your sacred honor.
“As you will be committing treason, the Colonial Union will freeze all your financial accounts, to restrict your ability, or the ability of others, to commit further treason with them. So you will lose your fortunes. And once you vote, confirming your treason, you will be summarily sentenced to death by the Colonial Union, with the sentence to be carried out immediately; as I said you are already tracked and targeted. So you will lose your life.
“Now, then,” I said, turning back to Speaker Haryanto. “You may proceed with your vote.”
“After you have threatened all of us with death?” Haryanto said, incredulously.
“Yes,” I said. “Or more precisely, after the Colonial Union agreed with the principles you have already set out—that this action was worth your life, fortune, and honor. What you may not have expected is that it would cost all these things as quickly as it will. But these are not the days of the American Revolution, and the Colonial Union is not the British Empire, an ocean and several months away. We are here now. It’s time to find out who among you is willing to make the sacrifice for independence that you have declared you will make. Time to find out who means what they say, and who was simply posturing because you thought your posturing was consequence free—or at least, consequence free for you.”
“But you won’t give us our independence even if we vote for it!” someone yelled from the floor.
“Is this a surprise to you?” I asked. “Did you not think there would be a struggle to follow? Did you not believe the words you said? Or did you believe the repercussions of your actions would be shouldered by others—by the citizens who will be pressed into service to defend the so-called independence you wish to give them? The fellow citizens of Franklin who will die by the millions as other species claim this planet for their own when the Colonial Union is not here to defend it? Where did you think you would be when that happened? Why did you think you would not be asked to answer for your vote?
“No, my dear representatives of Franklin. You are being given an opportunity. You will be called to answer for your actions before any other citizen of Franklin. You will not evade this responsibility, as much as you may wish it. Your vote is being broadcast across this globe. You cannot hide now. You will not hide now. You will vote your conscience. And your fellow citizens will find out now whether you believe their so-called independence is worth your life.”
“So, let’s begin,” I said, and nodded to Haryanto. “You first, speaker.”
* * *