Christopher Nuttall - Democracy's Right

“NO,” the crowd shouted. They couldn’t all be ringers, Colin knew.

“And what happens when the loot runs out and the Thousand Families turn on each other?” Colin demanded. “There will be war, civil war, with thousands of planets burning in the blackness of space and the Imperial Navy shattered, used as a weapon as the Families war against each other! We cannot let that happen. I say to you now that we will not let that happen!

“The Empire must be reformed! The Empire will not reform, not of its own will; why should the Families give up their power? They will refuse to make the reforms they need, even though the system they have created locks them into a course towards disaster. We must reform the Empire and, to do that, we must force the Empire to be reformed!”

There were more cheers, with a new chant echoing through the room. “REFORM, REFORM, REFORM…”

Colin waited, trying to gage the crowd. He’d never believed that it was possible, but standing at the centre of the crowd, he could feel the wave of feelings washing over them. Some were interested in reform, yet others wanted revenge — true revenge, the kind of revenge that could not be allowed. The Thousand Families had younger members who could be convinced to join a reform movement, but they wouldn’t if it meant the deaths of their families and everyone they ever loved. Colin knew that he would have to temper the desire for revenge, somehow…

“I pledge my life to this cause,” he said, feeling the cheers lifting him upwards, boosting his stature beyond imagination. The feeling was both glorious and terrifying. “I swear that we will work to reform the Empire or die trying!”

He lowered his voice as the cheering died away. “We all have different ideas about how the Empire should be reformed,” he said, softly. “We cannot allow ourselves to get bogged down in petty details. Once we have broken the power of the system, once we have broken the force that holds thousands of star systems in bondage, we can discuss the future of the Empire. Until then, any plans for reform are nothing more than wishful thinking. And the only actions that will change the Empire, the only actions that will allow us a chance to reform the system, are meaningful actions. We must confront the Empire and force it to reform.

“And we can only do that as a popular front.

”We must put aside our differences and unite,” he said. “I pledge, for myself, that I will respect the result of any constitutional convention that draws up a new order for the Empire, one formed after the war. Those who fight with us will be invited to join the convention, to add their thoughts and feelings to the future of the Empire itself.

“I’ve seen the Empire. I’ve seen the discontent within the Imperial Navy, the hopes and fears of a thousand suffering worlds; the storm of rage that is confined, helplessly, by the sheer power of the Empire. I know that it is rotting away, yet there is still life in its strong branches. If we unite, we can defeat it; if we remain disunited, it will crush us. And if we lose, the hope of humanity is lost with us.”

His voice became more purposeful as he nodded to the small side table. Hester had placed it there, with a large notepad and a pen on top. “This document pledges us to stand together and fight against the Empire,” he concluded. He wrote his signature with a flourish. He’d been practicing. “I invite you all to stand with me.”

Colin turned and walked down the ramp and out of the compartment. Behind him, Hester Hyman was the first to follow him, signing her own name. And the rest of the convention followed.

The spy watched in disbelief as most of the underground and resistance movement leaders — or their chosen representatives — walked forward to add their own name to the list. The Rim seethed with discontent and groups that were sworn to fight the Empire, yet no one had ever possessed the power and determination to unite them — until now. The spy mentally totted up the possible assets that had been pledged to the Popular Front and shuddered. It wasn’t significant compared to the might of the Imperial Navy, but gathered in one place — with the Imperial Navy scattered out over the Empire — it was going to be formidable. The Empire had to be warned.

It would be impossible, the spy knew, to slip away, so she followed the line down to the table and added her own name. Imperial Intelligence wouldn’t care, not as long as she brought home the bacon — and they’d want nothing less than the secret base Admiral Walker was using for his fleet. The spy knew more about the Rim than most — including the location of a number of hidden colonies whose inhabitants would have been surprised and upset to know she knew — yet she didn’t know everything. And besides, there was no reason why Admiral Walker had to use an established colony. A new one, perhaps built by the Geeks, would serve his purpose.

The spy swallowed a curse as the meeting broke up into smaller groups, all chatting away enthusiastically. She had to get back to the Empire, but how? This news was too vital to wait for one of Imperial Intelligence’s disguised ships. The Empire needed to know at once.

She shrugged as she moved away, in the company of a pair of rebels who had no idea about his true masters. She’d find a way and then… the Empire would reward her richly. It always did.

“And thank God that that’s over,” Colin said, taking off his jacket and throwing it over the nearest chair. The Popular Front meetings had taken, literally, days; he’d been hustled from group to group, each of which had wanted secret promises and assurances that Colin was in no position to offer. After a day of what felt like wasted time, he would have welcomed an Imperial Navy squadron roaring in, if only to break up the monotony. “If I’d known that forming an alliance of rebels was so much trouble…”

Daria laughed, taking one of the larger armchairs and crossing her legs mischievously. “I think you did very well,” she said, with a wink. She’d changed from the understated shipsuit she’d worn into an outfit that rivalled Cordova’s for colour and style. Daring flashes of light drew the eye towards the tops of her breasts, while the remainder of the outfit showed off the suppleness of her body. It almost seemed to draw attention away from her face. “You kept them talking and promised them nothing.”

“Yeah,” Khursheda said. Unlike the others, she wore an ordinary uniform; she’d been in command of the fleet while Colin had been at the asteroid, addressing the rebel forces. “Tell me something. How does an ordinary starship captain become such an accomplished politician?”

Daria favoured her with a dazzling smile. “It’s really quite simple,” she said. “I started with the Freebooter League — you should see the politics there — and went uphill from there. It never really changes; the people who have want to keep, while the people who don’t have want to get. The key is to keep the various political positions balanced until it no longer matters.”

Colin frowned, thoughtfully. “And when will it no longer matter?”

“When we rule the Empire, of course,” Daria said, switching her smile onto him. “The newly-elected government will be the one to decide on just what course the Empire will chart in the future. The various factions skulking out here past the Rim will have a chance to make their voices heard, but we didn’t promise them anything else — and we didn’t have to make any promises. They are far better off with us than they are with the Empire.”

Khursheda scowled at her. For some reason Colin had never been able to understand, the former Imperial Navy officer and the Freebooter didn’t really seem to like one another. Khursheda had been the most vocal about not trusting Daria when they’d first made contact with her network of spies and intelligence operatives on Jackson’s Folly, where the Freebooters had been quietly slipping technology into the hands of the local government. It hadn’t, according to the latest reports, been enough to stop the Empire. Jackson’s Folly was now an occupied world and would remain so until Colin won his war… assuming it was won. The alternative didn’t bear thinking about.