Christopher Nuttall - Barbarians at the Gates

The Marine General nodded after Vaughn realized Marius was there, but frowned when Marius gave him their private hand signal to ask for an immediate—and private—chat. Vaughn nodded again, and led Marius to Vaughn’s own office, which should be clear of surveillance devices. Marine counter-surveillance teams made sure of that.

“So.” Vaughn waved Marius to a seat in front of his desk. “What’s eating you now?”

“The Brotherhood,” Marius said.

He outlined everything that had happened since he’d heard the message from Professor Kratman. It wasn’t something he would share with anyone else—the Brotherhood wouldn’t react kindly if its secrets were spilled to outsiders—but he trusted Vaughn completely. That said, there was no way to know if the Marine wasn’t a member of the Brotherhood. It would be easy to give into paranoia and assume that everyone was part of the Brotherhood.

He finished with, “I confess that I have no idea what to do.”

“You always were too focused on space battles to see the more subtle political battlefield,” Vaughn commented, when Marius had finished. “You should try running a counter-insurgency campaign once in your life. It will give you a whole new appreciation for politics—and teach you how to eat soup with a knife.”

“I’m serious,” Marius protested.

“So am I.” Vaughn gave him a long, level look. “The Brotherhood relies upon secrecy, misdirection, and rumor to build its power. Reality doesn’t matter, not compared to what people think the Brotherhood is, or about what it can do.”

Marius contemplated this for a long moment, then set it aside. “Still, look what they’re offering. How can I turn it down?”

“Do you have any real evidence that their claims are true?” Vaughn asked in return.

“They put an agent—probably more than one—into ONI,” Marius pointed out. “And they can steer her career so it intersects with mine. I think they have a great deal of power and influence, even if it is behind the scenes.”

Vaughn considered it for a long moment. “Now you know why I never followed my father into politics…well, that and I knew my father’s name,” he said.

Marius snorted humorlessly.

“Let’s see.” Vaughn steepled his fingers. “You have the choice between accepting the Brotherhood’s help, which would give you access to far more influence than you have at the moment, or refusing their offer and carrying on without their help, right?”

Marius nodded.

“And what are they asking for in return?” Vaughn asked. “They’re just asking for you to do your duty. It isn’t as if they’ve ordered you to bombard Earth with antimatter bombs, is it?”

“So you think I should accept their offer?” Marius asked him.

“I didn’t say that,” Vaughn demurred with a smile.

“No, but I can tell you think it,” Marius shot back. “What happens if the price is too high?”

“It’s good to know, given what they’re offering, that you consider some prices to be too high,” he said.

Marius scowled, taking the point.

“I suppose it all comes down to trust, really,” Vaughn said thoughtfully. “Do you trust the Brotherhood to have humanity’s best interests in mind?”

“I’m not comfortable with it,” Marius admitted. “I don’t want an unelected elite dictating Federation policy.”

“Oh? And what, exactly, is the Senate?” Vaughn shrugged. “You know as well as I do that decisions made light years away are never as good as decisions made on the spot. The Senate causes problems for colonists and out-worlds simply by insisting on unified regulations, or worse yet, levying taxes that the poor colonists are simply unable to pay. And it doesn’t matter if the Senate actually means to cause harm or not—the fact of the matter is that the Senate is causing harm. The Senate isn’t designed to respond to democratic pressure from the out-worlds, which provokes rebellion and revolt.”

“Like the Inheritance Wars.” Marius ran his hand through his hair. “I wish I knew what to do.”

Vaughn laughed.

Marius gave him a quizzical look.

“I know you very well,” Vaughn said. “You’ve already made up your mind; you just want me to help clarify it. You want to preserve the Federation, while the Brotherhood also wants to preserve the Federation. You want to beat the warlords before they become too entrenched to stop, and the Brotherhood also wants to beat the warlords before they become too entrenched to stop. You want to stop Outsider raiding fleets pillaging the Rim, and of course the Brotherhood--”

“I get the point,” Marius said. “We have interests in common.”

“I don’t know enough about the Brotherhood to comment,” Vaughn said. “I will say this; they’re not going to leave you dangling on the edge of a long chain. You will probably end up being recruited into their senior leadership and becoming one of the people who set its course. You will have an opportunity to shape the future of the Brotherhood, and ensure that it doesn’t end up as much a parasite as the Federation Senate.”

“I see,” Marius said. “Toby…are you one of the Brotherhood?”

“If I was, would I tell you?” Vaughn snorted.

Marius raised an eyebrow.

“No, I’m not one of their agents, or controllers,” Vaughn said. “I used to know a couple of Marines who claimed to be in the Brotherhood—there aren’t many in the Marine Corps, supposedly—but I never knew for sure. They could have just been bullshitting me.”

He grinned. “One of the Marine Training Holograms has a program where an infiltrator from the Recon Force slips into a meeting of the rebel headquarters, only to discover that all of the rebels are, in fact, other infiltrators…”

“I take your point.” Marius nodded slowly. “I’ll watch my back.”

“And so will I,” Vaughn replied. “The Brotherhood might not want to threaten or kill a mere cadet, or lieutenant, but someone in your position…if they felt you were a threat, they might decide to deal with you permanently.”

Marius gave him a questioning look.

“You have a fleet that is loyal to you and a certain slight reputation for tactical competence,” Vaughn reminded him sardonically. “You could root out most of the Brotherhood if you tried. And I bet you anything you want to put forward that they’ve already considered the possibility.”

“The latest recon probes report that there are now nine hundred fortresses facing us,” Commodore Arunika said several hours later at Marius Drake’s normal daily briefing. “The best case estimate—worst case from our point of view—is that Admiral Justinian could not have produced more than two hundred fortresses, considering the limited amount of time on the one hand and the fact that if he’d tried for more, it would have required the diversion of most of his industrial output. Simple logic tells us, therefore, that most of the fortresses are actually nothing more than ECM buoys. But without actually charging into the system and seeing which ones fire on us, there is no way to tell the difference at this range.”

“So in other words, we cannot launch an attack through the Asimov Point,” he said with a nod. “Thank you for the briefing, Commodore. We will consider other alternatives after lunch.”

He wasn’t particularly surprised at her information. A full-force attack could be very costly, as Admiral Justinian had found out during his first and second offensives. Somehow, they needed to find another way to deal with Justinian before the Senate ordered them to launch a direct assault, even though it was against all military logic.

He waved for her to remain behind as the officers filed out of the briefing compartment.