Democracy's Might

Chapter Thirty-Five

Colin had not been taught to have respect for senior officers. Most of the Imperial Navy’s officers were appointed for loyalty, connections or incompetence, not anything Colin could have respected them for possessing. Even before Percival had betrayed him, Colin had never really respected him. The man’s flaws had been too obvious, even to someone who had hoped to use him for his own advantage.

But Admiral Wachter was different. Colin hesitated outside the hatch, feeling an odd mixture of nervousness and admiration. If he’d served under such a man, he had asked himself, would he have ever been driven to mutiny? And, if he had never been driven to mutiny, would the Empire just have continued expanding outwards until it collapsed under its own weight? Would no one have stood up and said enough?

He pressed his hand against the sensor, opening the hatch. The Marine guard nodded at him, then stepped aside as the hatch opened, allowing Colin to step into the compartment. It had once belonged to one of Stacy Roosevelt’s aides — Colin had never been entirely certain what the man had done for her, but he’d accepted exile with almost indecent speed — and had been swept of anything that might be dangerous or valuable. But at least it wasn’t a cell in the brig, Colin told himself, as Admiral Wachter sat up on the sofa. It could have been a great deal worse.

“Commander Walker,” Wachter said.

“Admiral Walker,” Colin countered, recognising the verbal gambit. To let it pass would be to implicitly recognise the Empire as the source of all promotion. “I trust that the quarters are acceptable?”

“It would be nice to have something to read,” Wachter said. “Your people took out the workstation and everything else.”

“I’ll have some books dug up and sent to you,” Colin assured him. He took a seat facing the sofa and smiled at Wachter. “You fought well.”

“Thank you,” Wachter said. “So did you.”

Colin glanced up as the hatch leading into the bedroom opened, revealing a woman with long blonde hair and a face that seemed oddly nervous. It reminded Colin of the poor bastards they’d rescued from Imperial Intelligence, back when Camelot had fallen. They’d twitched nervously too after spending months having the Mind Techs probing their brains. The woman, according to the files, was the person Admiral Percival had chosen to replace him. It didn’t look as though she had enjoyed the experience.

She sat down next to Wachter and stared at Colin, unable to quite meet his eyes. Colin smiled, inwardly. She might not know it herself, but she had one hell of a crush on the Admiral, even though they weren’t orienting on one another like lovers. Nor was she cringing away, as she might well have done for Percival. Somehow, Colin doubted that it was love that had lured her into Percival’s clutches. More like intensive pressure to open her legs for the man who could save or damn her career with a single word.

Bastard, Colin thought. But Percival was on a penal world, assuming he had survived. Colin wouldn’t have put money on him surviving more than a few days. There was no point in dwelling on his fate.

“We won the battle,” he said, shortly. “It is our intention to move on to Earth as soon as we have patched up the damage.”

Wachter said nothing. Nor did his aide.

“I have a question,” Colin said. “Why are you loyal to the Empire?”

“The Empire is not perfect,” Wachter said. “But what would happen to humanity without it?”

His voice was calm and reasonable. “There would be chaos,” he said. “Old disputes would lead to civil war, the economy would fragment, the Imperial Navy would be broken up… no, we need the Empire.”

“But the Empire has committed millions of atrocities to keep its power,” Colin pointed out, struggling to keep his voice calm. “Lives have been ruined just for daring to question the way things are. People have been destroyed merely for being in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

He remembered Hester and shuddered. She’d been captured, abused, raped and then sentenced to a penal colony, just for daring to seek independence for her homeworld. And her story was far from unique. God alone knew how many people had been killed by the security forces, or sentenced to penal worlds and abandoned to die there. Hester had merely been lucky enough to be rescued before she could be dropped to the surface. And then there were the independent worlds that had been swept out of existence because the Empire wanted their land. What had Jackson’s Folly done to deserve being annexed by the Empire?

Wachter looked down at the deck for a long moment. “I didn’t say the system was perfect.”

Colin indicated Penny. “And what about her?”

He pressed on before Wachter could say a word. “She had nothing to do with the mutiny or Admiral Percival’s ham-handed response,” he said. “But she was still interrogated badly, just so they could find a scapegoat for the whole affair. What did she do to deserve that?”

“Nothing,” Wachter said. He met Colin’s eyes, holding them. “And what is the point of this discussion?”

“Join us,” Colin said, simply.

“To destroy the Empire?”

“To reform it,” Colin said. “The Empire is dying — it was dying even before I launched the first mutiny. You know that to be true, I think. The Thousand Families were running out of worlds to annex, their economic system was threatening to collapse and they were starting to turn on each other. It might have fallen apart completely by now if I hadn’t given them a common enemy. Even if we were to surrender tomorrow, the Empire wouldn’t survive the next few decades.”

“A lot can happen in a decade,” Wachter pointed out, smoothly.

“Not in the Empire,” Colin said. “The Thousand Families will start fighting each other; their subordinates will start considering how best to take advantage of the chaos. Worlds will struggle for independence, independent freighters will seek to replace the authorised shipping lines. All of the Empire’s victims, the abused and exploited, will rise up and demand their freedom. The Empire will rip itself apart.”

He leaned forward. “You have a point,” he admitted. “Humanity’s unity is important. But, right now, there is no unity left. The Empire holds the human race together by force. Sooner or later, that force will prove insufficient to handle the task.

“We can reform the Empire if we take power now,” he insisted. “End the worst of the abuses, reform the economy, purge the Imperial Navy of the patronage networks that prevent competent and far-seeing officers from rising to positions of authority… we can save humanity’s unity. But if we fail to reform the Empire, the results will be disastrous for humanity.”

“You’d weaken us,” Wachter pointed out.

“We’re already weak,” Colin countered. “Tell me something. What do you think would happen if we ran into a peer power, now?”

He saw Wachter’s wince and smiled, inwardly. The Empire had no peer, not since the First Interstellar War. Their last war with an alien race had been almost pitifully small compared to the First Interstellar War — or Colin’s rebellion. But if the Empire had run into a peer power, one that actually maintained its starships, the war would have been lost very quickly. There would have been no time to repair the effects of years of stagnation on the Imperial Navy…

Colin had read the reports from Morrison. If the rebels had attacked the planet with a squadron of superdreadnaughts, just after the start of the rebellion, they might well have won outright. The same could be said for Earth. Wachter had worked miracles in getting the Morrison Fleet up and running, even though it had earned him the hatred of almost all of the patronage networks. But if the Empire had run into a peer power, the results would have been disastrous.

“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?”

Gwendolyn bowed her head, submissively. Colin almost pitied her before realising that it was yet another attempt at emotional manipulation. She was very good at it. He hardened his heart, then reached into his jacket pocket and dropped a chip on the table in front of her. She glanced at it, then looked up at him. He read the question in her eyes.

“My proposed peace terms,” Colin said. “I haven’t bothered to exaggerate to allow you to haggle me down to the barely acceptable. Those are my terms. If you refuse to accept them, the Thousand Families will be destroyed.”

“And the Empire might go down with us,” Gwendolyn pointed out.

“We’ll take that chance,” Colin said. He stood. “You’ll be returned to your ship in an hour. Once you are there, head back to Earth at once. If we beat you there, it will be very embarrassing for you.”

It would be, he knew. Quite apart from the failure to ensure that the Families Council had a chance to debate Colin’s terms, it would be strange for a single ship to be beaten by an entire fleet. Colin knew, better than most serving officers, that the more ships there were in a fleet, the slower the average speed. After all, ships could suffer navigational or drive failures, forcing the entire fleet to slow down to ensure they stayed together…

He walked out of the hatch, then headed towards the CIC. Five weeks to Earth, he told himself, five weeks to the final confrontation with the Thousand Families and their loyalists. If the files were accurate, Home Fleet hadn’t been in any better state that the Morrison Fleet… and it hadn’t had a commander as independent as Admiral Wachter. But he knew, better than anyone, just how inaccurate the files could be. It was possible that the Thousand Families had managed to find a competent CO for Home Fleet.

Colin smiled, dismissing the thought. One way or another, he knew, it would all be over soon. And then the real challenge — reforming the Empire — would begin.