Christopher Nuttall - Democracy's Light

Charlie nodded, thinking hard. It was difficult to safeguard any system from internal sabotage, but Colin and the remainder of the original conspiracy had had an unfair advantage. They’d had years, while waiting for the Empire’s decision to carve up Macore as a favour to the Roosevelt Clan, to lay their plans and make them as foolproof as possible. Quinn and his fellows might not have been suspected — their very freedom was proof of that — but they had been rendered powerless, long enough to allow Admiral Wilhelm to secure his own grip on power. He’d done it without even knowing who they were.

“Perhaps,” the male doubter agreed. He came into the light, revealing a scarred face, marked for life. A series of regeneration treatments would have removed the scar, but he’d chosen, instead, to keep it. It said something about his character. “And what happens to us, if we rebel and manage to convince the Admiral not to attack at once, when he finds out the news?”

“And why should we rebel?” The female doubter added. “The Admiral doesn’t have a few hundred relatives who have to get posts because of who their great-uncles fucked one cold night a century ago. Where do our interests lie?”

Sasha smiled dryly. “You already know the answer to that, or you wouldn’t be meeting with us,” she said. “Admiral Wilhelm intends to impose military rule. You know that — hell, you’re part of it, just as much as the reprogrammed SD Troopers and the policemen he’s been recruiting to help garrison worlds that he takes from the Empire. He wants a war of conquest against the remainder of the Empire, shattering systems that have existed for hundreds of years, just for his glory — and your deaths.”

She leaned closer. “You’re all junior officers,” she said. “In the old Imperial Navy, you would be lucky to rise above Commander, unless you found a powerful patron. In the new Imperial Navy, the one created by Colin Harper, you would rise to the levels your talents allowed. You wouldn’t have to suck up to senior officers, or spend time sucking the cocks of the powerful, not when your own competence could get you into high rank. Is that not worth fighting for?

“And even if you decide not to rebel, what then? What happens when Admiral Wilhelm needs new crewmen for his new ships? He’s taking on the entire galaxy, for God’s sake! What are the odds of any of you surviving the next ten years?”

She looked around the room, her eyes moving from face to face. “And consider this,” she concluded. “Military rule never ends well. The Empire is far too complex for the Imperial Navy to dictate the rules and expect them to be kept. There’s already been one rebellion and Admiral Wilhelm won’t even have the legacy of thousands of years to keep him in power. What happens when he dies, or when the four Admirals begin scrabbling over who gets to be Emperor, or… how many possibilities can you think of? Where do your loyalties lie?”

There was an uncomfortable pause. “We swore loyalty to the Empire,” Quinn said, finally. “We were younger then. We didn’t know what the Imperial Navy was really like…”

“But you know now,” Sasha pressed. “You have the choice between supporting Admiral Wilhelm in his attempt to burn down the Empire and replace it with his rule, or join the Provisional Government.” She looked over at the two doubters. “The Imperial Navy and the Shadow Fleet have accepted thousands of people who started out on the wrong side, even including Admiral Wachter. You would be free to join at your current ranks and work your way up the ladder. If you managed to take Cottbus, you would have one hell of a bargaining chip.”

A younger woman, barely out of the Academy, laughed. “We heard that anyone who took a starship and brought it to the Shadow Fleet would hold command,” she said. “We would have an entire planet under our command, right?”

“The planet would have to become a democratic state,” Sasha said. “The Provisional Government intends to give each and every planet in the Empire effective first-rank status, including Cottbus and Earth itself. You would be welcome to assume command of the defences, or of the shipyard, or even of some of the starships here.”

Quinn silently canvassed his fellows. “You make a good case,” he said, finally. “I believe that we should join you, however…” He shrugged. “We have to discuss it in private, if you don’t mind.”

One of the handful of enlisted men came forward and escorted Sasha and Charlie out of the club and into a smaller room, which was as bare as a prison cell. Charlie spent a quick moment scanning it for listening devices, but found nothing, not even a simple location beacon. They didn’t talk as they waited as patiently as they could, enhanced ears straining for signs of discussion, or argument. Charlie found himself pacing backwards and forwards, even in the tiny room, knowing just how vulnerable they were. If Quinn and his compatriots decided to sell them out…

He scowled. Sasha had told the truth, but Cottbus was a far larger target than a starship, even a superdreadnaught. Taking even one of the orbital fortresses would be difficult, while the fixed defences were backed up by three squadrons of superdreadnaughts. They would have to be taken as well, unless they could be countered somehow… or was that actually true? What would the superdreadnaughts do if they suddenly found that the orbital fortresses were in the grasp of rebels and traitors? Would they attack at once, or would they wait for Admiral Wilhelm to come running back from wherever he was to recover his base?

And if he decides to stay away, we’ve won , he thought. If Quinn cooperates, we could win the war in one fell swoop .

It was tempting to discuss it with Sasha, but they couldn’t guarantee their privacy, so he waited, pacing, until she finally ordered him to take a seat and wait. They could hear raised voices now, the inner heart of the rebellion arguing over its course of action, and Charlie winced. Quinn had been lucky, so far, but if they were arguing then they might splinter. He’d studied the records of the successful — and unsuccessful — mutinies carefully. Several of the unsuccessful ones had been defeated, not though the efforts of the authorities, but by the mutineers having a falling out and betrayal. If Quinn went the same way…

We can’t even call on the Admiral to help , he thought, grimly. Even if we knew where she was, we couldn’t call on her to help.

The door opened and Quinn stepped in. “We decided to join you,” he said, without preamble. There was a grim note in his voice. He had no illusions, Charlie was relieved to see, about the difficulty of their task. The first mutinies had been easy, but the successive ones had been much harder. “I hope that your help is worth the risk.”

“Oh, trust me,” Sasha said. “It is.”

The next two days passed quickly. Quinn, it turned out, had had cells of rebels scattered all over the planet, most of them in lower-ranking positions that could be used to help confuse the security forces. The Admiral had scattered the cells, but in doing so, he had unwittingly created a second danger. The various rebels had been able to make contact with others who shared the same views, spreading the mutinous sentiments far and wide. Admiral Wilhelm’s base was rotting away under him.

But it wasn’t going to be easy, Charlie warned, and Quinn accepted the lesson. The Admiral’s security forces were carefully positioned to block any rebellion, even if he did have more faith in his people than Admiral Percival had ever shown. The rebels needed to gain control of the high orbitals — or, at least, the fifteen fortresses circling the planet — or the rebellion would be a bloody failure. He doubted, somehow, that Admiral Wilhelm would hesitate to bombard the planet to punish the rebels; despite his claims, there was no trace of a democratic government. Cottbus was controlled directly from the orbiting command fortress and if there was any resistance, Charlie hadn’t seen any evidence of it. The old government, the one established by the founding Clan, was clearly no longer in existence. He couldn’t decide if it were an improvement or not.