Prehistory: galaxy of the galactic federation

Jervix sat in a slump, curled up on the floor. He'd been in this cell for a while, two months now. After a hundred years of service to the empire, he'd be executed for calling high command a legion of cowards. Not that it wasn't untrue, at least, to Jervix's eyes. They'd went from a race of conquerors to a weak race that tried to defend what little they had. a landing on an uninhabited planet happened once in a while, sure, but actually attacking, or stealing, anything? Not in a long while, as they tried to draw hostility away from themselves. And the drawbacks were felt by the people. They both had too much population, and, now, too little technology, to supply themselves normally on these barren fringe worlds. His people were slowly dying off, and High Command seemed to be quite content with watching them die.
In the past, A cage such as this wouldn't have held Jervix. He was a covert operative, a powerful warrior, fitted with many tools and weapons. He could destroy the bars right now, if he wished, with the gun he'd hidden on himself, or even the blade that he'd managed to conceal, an older type of energy blade that Kress preferred to the newer models. But what was the point of escaping, when his race had degenerated as it had? His people had become lethargic, no longer the illustrious conquerors they were. Rather than struggle to become the dominant member of the food-chain, they now seemed content to sit and wait for death.
And it seemed Jervix was planning on doing the exact same, though in a more direct way. His execution was scheduled for tomorrow, where he'd be beheaded. At least it'd be quick, Jervix told himself, and then he'd be able to shed the shame of what his race had become in death. "If only lord Ridley... If only he had survived, to lead us to victory... Oh, I wouldn't want him to see us, in this pitiful state. I failed him, and it seems that, by extension, I have failed our entire race...".
Jervix was interrupted from his recollection by a space pirate guard. "Jervix?"
"Yes?"
"Lord Kress wishes to have a word with you."