Christopher Nuttall - Democracy's Might

“You know just how badly the Empire treats everyone,” Colin added, smoothly. “Why not help us reform the system? It might help it to survive.”

He glanced briefly at Penny. Just how much influence did she have over the Admiral? She could easily have been abandoned to the tender mercies of Imperial Intelligence or merely discharged from the Imperial Navy. And Wachter would have been free to choose his own aide. Could she help talk him into joining the rebels? Or…

One death is a tragedy , Colin remembered, feeling a twinge of guilt. A million is a statistic .

The thought made him shudder. He had known, intellectually, that the Empire was far from perfect. But it hadn’t been until Percival had used him, then discarded him that he’d really seen the Empire for what it was. And yet he’d still been driven partly by personal ambition. It had taken Hester and her comrades to change him into a full revolutionary…

But what would change Wachter’s mind? How loyal was he, really? He came from minor aristocracy, which gave him a stake in maintaining the system. But he had to know that the system was rotten to the core… and that it was on the verge of collapse, with or without the rebels. If he understood that, perhaps he would understand the need to take power quickly…

Or would what had happened to Penny be more real for him?

“I have a proposal,” he said. “If we win the war, if we take control of Earth and the levers of power, join us then.”

Wachter smiled. “Why then ?

“You are admired and respected by naval officers on both sides,” Colin said. It was true enough. “If you joined us, it would make the transition easier…”

“And prevent a second round of mutinies,” Wachter commented.

“Quite,” Colin agreed. “The officers who would be capable of launching a mutiny would understand that we didn’t intend to purge them, while we did intend to purge the incompetent and the politically-connected.”

“Not all of the connected are incompetent,” Wachter pointed out. “Or am I incompetent?”

“True,” Colin agreed. “But you can help us sort out the competent from the incompetent.”

He smiled. “For the moment, your war is over,” he said. “I won’t force you to make up your mind now. But when we win, if you truly believe in human unity, you could help us reform and shore up the crumbling Empire. Because the alternative, as you pointed out, is chaos.”

“True enough,” Wachter agreed.

Colin looked at him for a long moment, then rose to his feet. “For what it’s worth,” he added, “you’re the only senior officer who’s ever managed to impress me. I’d like to have you on my side.

“I know it wasn’t your fault that the POWs were sent back to Earth,” he added, after a moment. “I don’t blame you for that, Admiral. But you might want to think about what it means if your word can be discarded so easily.”

“I know,” Wachter said, tiredly.

Penny looked up at Colin. “And what happens,” she asked in a very small voice, “if we refuse to join you?”

“It depends,” Colin said. He couldn’t help feeling a twinge of pity. A full interrogation could leave its victim a trembling wreck. Penny’s medical file had suggested that she had been lucky to survive without brain damage. As it was, she might need medical treatment in the very near future. “For the moment, you’ll stay here. Later, we can intern you, if you refuse to join us, then discharge you after we win the war. I’d prefer to avoid purging people who only did their duty.”

He allowed it to sink in for a long moment. Admiral Wachter had saved other returnees from Imperial Intelligence, but he wouldn’t be so lucky himself, not if he returned. The Thousand Families had plotted to kill him, even as they had tried to make use of his skills. Colin had read the secret orders sent to the Blackshirts. When Director Smyth gave the word, they had to kill the Admiral and his entire command staff. And they would have done it even if Wachter had won the Second Battle of Morrison. They had decided to dispose of him before he could become a threat to their power.

“I’ll have some books sent in,” he said. “And…”

Colin shrugged and walked towards the hatch, which hissed open at his approach. He turned and nodded goodbye, then walked through the hatch and out into the corridor. Once the hatch was closed, Colin walked down towards the second suite. Gwendolyn and Pompey Cicero had been brought back onboard just after the Fall of Morrison. Neither of them, according to their escorts, had seemed very happy with their lot.

His lips twitched. Gwendolyn had spent her time trying to seduce everyone, male and female, who crossed her path, while Pompey had just read his way through countless technical manuals and cheap novels. Colin hadn’t been sure if that was typical behaviour or if they were merely biding their time, although there were plenty of horror stories about how the aristocratic youths behaved in the High City. But in the end, it didn’t matter. He didn’t have any other pipeline back to the Thousand Families.

“Good afternoon,” he said, as he stepped into the suite without knocking. “I trust that you find the quarters acceptable?”

Gwendolyn smiled at him, charmingly. “All the more acceptable for having such a handsome man entering them,” she said. She crossed her legs, drawing his attention to the long slit in her kimono. “Are you going to be staying long?”

Colin felt himself flush. Her sexuality was a weapon, he knew, which didn’t stop it being terrifyingly effective. He sat down hard, then scowled at her when she started to stand up. It was hard to believe that the sex kitten facing him was the same person as the hard-headed Ambassador who’d spoken to him earlier, but she was good at pretending. The Marines had reported, not without a certain amount of embarrassment, that she’d tried hard to present them with their ideal woman. If there had been one guard assigned to her, they’d concluded, Gwendolyn would have wrapped him around her little finger by now.

“ You won’t be,” Colin said. He allowed a hint of triumph to enter his voice. “We have just successfully occupied Morrison.”

The sex kitten vanished, to be replaced by a sharp-eyed persona. “Congratulations,” Gwendolyn said, darkly. “What can we do for you then ?”

Colin smiled, recognising the double meaning. “In the interests of avoiding further bloodshed, I’d like you to take a message back to your superiors,” he said. “Tell them… that we would be interested in a peaceful transfer of power.”

“I believe the Family Head would also be interested,” Gwendolyn said. “But we would demand certain guarantees…”

“They would be guaranteed their lives,” Colin said. “But what else they are guaranteed depends on how quickly they surrender.”

Gwendolyn held his eyes for a long moment, then nodded. “We don’t have the authority to speak for all of the Thousand Families,” she said. Colin nodded. He wasn’t entirely sure she had the authority to speak on behalf of her family, let alone the others. “But we will take your words back to Earth.”

Colin wondered, absently, just how they planned to explain receiving a message from the rebels, as the Thousand Families had vetoed any thought of opening lines of communication. He shrugged a moment later, dismissing the thought. It wasn’t his problem.

“Good,” he said. “We shall be following; we’ll be in the Sol System five weeks from today. I suggest you make it clear to them, very clear, that the harder we have to fight to take control, the less merciful we will be feeling. Do you understand me?”