For a moment time seemed to stand still. All eyes were on the Ambassador.
Then he finally replied in a slow monotone.
“Very well. A shuttle has been prepared. It will bring you and your men to the planet’s surface. Glory to the Emperor.”
Timothy gripped the controller tightly before he adeptly turned his wheelchair around. Just a few minutes later he and his men were on a cramped, aging shuttle and entering Uisneach’s atmosphere.
The thud of the landing came as an immense relief. It was not unknown for someone whose allegiance to the Emperor has even been slightly questioned to be involved in an unfortunate accident.
A moment later the shuttle bay door began to open. A gentle breeze entered the shuttle. It smelled of flowers and vitality, alien to the Uisneach he once knew. He ordered his troops to leave the shuttle as warm rays of sunlight hit their cheeks. The chirping of birds could be heard as Timothy’s wheels hit the asphalt.
He was surprised that there were no roaring crowds. Instead a welcoming partying of men and women, some in battle chairs and some not were in front of them. The familiar banner of the Omega was hoisted up on a pole. Timothy’s eyes welled up with pride.
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