The air inside the Parliament Hill chamber froze for a moment.
The councillors began stepping down from their seats more frequently, gathering in twos and threes to whisper among themselves.
Mossley wiped the sweat from his forehead, his eyes constantly darting toward Valeris and Garth.
Even within the Holy Alliance faction there were faint murmurs of concern.
A Workshop Master councillor tugged on Bradak's sleeve: "If this keeps going and some ambitious schemer slips in, or the Leia people take the chance to attack, won't all the battles we fought before have been for nothing?
We still have to do business with them (the oligarch councillors) in the future."
Bradak patted his hand and said nothing, just stared at the sky outside the window.
The moon had already climbed high, its silver radiance spilling over the roofs of Parliament Hill, squeezing the anxiety out of the chamber.
