Democracy's Might

Prologue

“Transit complete, sir.”

Captain Saku Rautiainen sucked in his breath as Jupiter appeared on the viewscreen. Easily one of the largest gas giants known to mankind, it dominated the Sol System, the Great Red Spot blazing out in the interstellar darkness. Hundreds of installations orbited the gas giant, ranging from large industrial nodes and cloudscoops to a giant Class-III shipyard. Jupiter had powered humanity’s expansion into the galaxy ever since the human race had first started to reach into space. Its shipyards produced a tenth of all new human starships.

It was an impressive sight, Saku decided. Even knowing that most of the installations were owned by the Cicero Family, even knowing that they contributed mightily to humanity’s bondage, they were still impressive. He took one last look, then glanced down at his display, checking that the IFF codes had been accepted by the defences. If the Geeks had failed, the whole operation was about to come to a short and violent end.

“They accepted our codes,” Martin McKenzie said. “Don’t they know there’s a war on?”

Saku smirked. It had been seven months since the first mutiny, six months since word had finally been sent to Earth — and barely a week since it had arrived at the heart of the Empire. There were so many defences in orbit around Earth and the other planets in the Sol System that attack seemed inconceivable. Earth hadn’t been directly threatened for thousands of years, unless one counted the Empress’s suborning of Home Fleet. The mutinies had taken place thousands of light years away. It was unlikely that the defenders of Earth realised that they might be attacked within days of word reaching the planet.

“I don’t think they’ve realised it yet,” he said. “Take us in.”

He glanced over at his old friend and smiled. McKenzie had worked for one of the big shipping lines before suffering an accident that had damaged his legs, leaving him permanently stuck in a mover. The shipping line might have abandoned him, but he’d somehow managed to find work on an independent freighter, work that had eventually led him to the underground. He’d volunteered for the mission as soon as he’d heard about it, despite the near-certainty that they wouldn’t escape. Like Saku, McKenzie had scores to pay off.

The defences did nothing as the giant freighter inched closer and closer to the heart of the complex, the giant Class-III shipyard. There were only three such shipyards in the Empire, the only ones authorised to design and build superdreadnaughts. Not that the Empire had done much of that in the last two hundred years. The Empire’s monopoly on superdreadnaughts — and possession of the biggest hammer in the galaxy — had allowed the designers to slow down and stop trying to improve their work. Somehow, Saku had a feeling that they were going to regret it.

He smiled to himself. The Empire was stagnant; the Thousand Families, who ran the Empire, saw no reason to invest in Research and Development efforts which might change the status quo. After all, something might come up which would invalidate all of their monopolies and shatter their grip on power. But they were going to regret that too.

“Picking up a signal,” McKenzie said. “They want us to head for a specific access port and prepare to be boarded.”

“Too late,” Saku said. The Underground had obtained the access codes years ago, they’d just never had a good reason to use them. Even the Empire could adapt quickly if given a nasty poke. “Do you have proper targeting solutions?”

“Yes, sir,” McKenzie said. He sounded faintly offended by the question. “We might as well be at point-blank range.”

“Good,” Saku said. “Blow the hatches, then open fire.”

The underground had worked hard to turn the seemingly-harmless freighter into a q-ship. Her hull looked normal, until the hatches were removed, revealing the missile launchers hidden underneath. If someone was monitoring their progress, they’d know that something was badly wrong… but it was already too late. The giant freighter shuddered as she launched her missiles, targeted directly on the shipyard. It would be bare seconds before they struck their targets and wiped them from existence.

“Gunboats and assault shuttles incoming,” McKenzie warned. “I think they’ve spotted us.”

Saku barely heard him. The shipyard had been torn apart, shattered by the missiles. His ship’s automated systems were already firing a second salvo, targeting industrial nodes and smaller complexes the Empire might be able to use to repair the damage. A cold satisfaction flooded through his body as he watched the shipyard die. It was a symbol of the Empire’s oppression of the entire human race. Whatever happened, now that the galaxy was at war, the Empire’s monumental self-confidence would not survive.

“Thank you,” he said, softly.

Moments later, the gunboats tore the freighter apart.