Christopher Nuttall - Barbarians at the Gates

The Senate wouldn’t thank him for being insufficiently thorough when it came to reclaiming the system for the Federation. He knew that his superiors had their own business interests in the sector, which would only be boosted by control of Bester, and he intended to present them with a tamed planet.

“Ship the senior prisoners to the barge,” he ordered when he’d finished skimming the list. It hardly mattered that not all of the senior prisoners were on the proscribed list. “I want them well away from the planet’s surface.”

The young lieutenant turned from the console. “Sir, the admiral specifically ordered that the prisoners were to be held…”

Scudder cut him off sharply. “Does the admiral outrank the Senate?” he demanded angrily. “I have instructions to secure and pacify this system, and that is what I will do. If you have a problem with that, place yourself under arrest. One of your subordinates will have your posting…”

“No, sir,” the lieutenant said. He turned back to his console and started to issue orders, doubtless aware of Scudder’s eyes drilling into his ramrod-straight back.

Scudder had no idea how the lieutenant been assigned to Internal Security, an organization where following orders, no matter how insane or absurd, was highly commended. Perhaps the youngster had highly-placed relatives who had secured him an easy position, although nothing Scudder did was ever easy , or safe. Whatever else could be said of him, he was no coward; he led his men from the front, shared their rations and ensured that few questions were asked about their conduct while on leave.

“The marshals want you to know that the prisoners are protesting…” the lieutenant started.

“Tell them to apply the treatment we applied to those protesters on Mars if they keep it up,” Scudder ordered. Back then, he’d led his men, wearing full combat armor and carrying shock-rods and stunners, against men and women who might as well have been naked. The result had been a bloody end to the protest. “I want them all on the barge yesterday, if not sooner.”

He turned away from the lieutenant and stared down at the tactical display showing Bester and the orbital defenses surrounding the planet. His men had relieved the Marines who’d taken and secured the facilities, and promptly shipped the junior prisoners down to the planet’s surface. The senior prisoners were still on the station, but it wouldn’t be long before they, too, were transferred to the barge. In the meantime, his forces would occupy the planet’s vital locations and purge the government of all undesirable elements.

The Colonel was still contemplating this happy thought when he received a call from the barge.

“Colonel, all of the senior prisoners are aboard,” the officer in charge reported. “I’m afraid that many of their family members insisted on accompanying them.”

“No matter,” Scudder said. “I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

He shrugged. The Senate’s orders were clear, regardless of what the admiral had said. If they gave amnesty to snakes like the men who had betrayed their sworn oaths, they would just rise up again and launch a second coup. He knew how to deal with them, and the Senate’s orders overrode the admiral’s instructions. Besides, the Grand Fleet was already on its way towards its target. Whatever minor tactical considerations were involved, the battles would be over by the time the news of what Scudder had done reached Admiral Drake.

Some of his men—the ones he relied on for the truly dirty work—would be disappointed. Personally, Scudder didn’t care. It was just a job. Besides, there was an entire planet of women just below them and Scudder had a reputation for being liberal with leave cards once the mission was complete. They’d be at Bester long enough to enjoy themselves, once the planet had been pacified and reinforcements arrived. The latest Internal Security divisions would already be on their way.

The barge—no one had ever bothered to name it—had started life as a bulk freighter, back in the days before the stardrive. Internal Security hadn’t been concerned about the freighter’s limited choice of destinations, as they’d converted the freighter into a prison barge. It would be difficult, if not impossible, for anyone to rescue the prisoners and if they rioted and overthrew their guards, the barge couldn’t hope to outrun even a crippled destroyer. The ship was, naturally, completely unarmed.

Scudder had no time to gaze upon the planet below as his shuttle docked with the barge. He pulled himself through the airlock into the crew compartment. Most of the original automation had been pulled out and replaced with modern equipment, ensuring that only five crewmen were actually needed to run the vessel. The crew compartment and control systems were also separated from the prisoner compartments by a layer of battle steel that was completely impenetrable, at least to anything the prisoners might have on hand. If worst came to worst, the crew compartment could separate from the main body of the ship and abandon the prisoners in space.

“Welcome aboard, colonel,” the barge’s captain said.

Scudder had picked the man personally; he was small, unpleasant and thoroughly unimaginative. He was the ideal tool for Internal Security, if only because he didn’t have the imagination to be disloyal. And he would do anything if ordered, no matter how vile. He’d been on suspension from the Federation Penal Service when Internal Security had recruited him.

“Can I say how pleased I am to see you?” the man added.

“No,” Scudder growled. The sooner he completed his task, the better. “Show me the prisoners.”

The crew compartment was cramped, even with the new computers and control systems. At the rear of the compartment, there was a set of nine monitors. Scudder flicked through them one by one, examining the prisoners thoughtfully. Many of them looked despondent, clearly wondering what was going to happen to them, while others had already realized the truth. Some of them—he caught sight of a number of young girls who had chosen to stay with their families—shouldn’t really be there at all.

Not that Scudder gave a damn. The Senate had ordered the execution of all rebels, along with their families, and Scudder intended to give them exactly what they had ordered.

“I have command,” he said.

The captain blinked at him, but nodded.

Scudder keyed a switch and accessed the intercom. His words would be heard throughout the prisoner compartments.

“Rebels: by Senatorial Decree, you have been found guilty of treason, mutiny against lawful authority and various other charges. The penalty for your crimes is death.”

He keyed a second switch, opening the air vents. The prisoner sections would start to decompress slowly, but surely. The rebels would have plenty of time to realize what awaited them before they died. It would be interesting to see how they reacted when they realized the truth. He’d seen men fighting each other for the last gasp of air, and others trying to give their own lives to save other men. Perhaps it would be the latter here. There were families at stake.

“Make sure this is prepared for transmission,” he ordered. “I want the entire system to see what happened to them.”

The rebels were trying desperately to block the air vents, a tactic that might have worked if some of the air vents hadn’t been out of reach. But the air was running out. Men and women started to turn purple as they stumbled around, gasping for air. A child—she couldn’t have been more than six—stumbled to the deck and lay still. Other children had been killed by their parents to spare them the pain of suffocation and death.