Barbarians at the Gates

by Nuttall, Christopher

  It made no sense. Admiral Drake could have piled on the speed and reached Earth well before Home Fleet could intercept him. Instead...he was deliberately keeping his speed low, daring Home Fleet to intercept his fleet. Featherstone couldn’t understand it, unless Admiral Drake was supremely confident.

  And if Admiral Drake was that confident, Featherstone asked himself, what did Drake know that Featherstone didn’t know?

  He rubbed his eyes again, fighting down a yawn. They’d crawled across the Solar System for hours, and he hadn’t dared to leave the bridge. At least they were coming into interception range within the next ten minutes. Once the battle started, he was sure he would feel better...

  * * *

  “Admiral,” Garibaldi said, “you asked to be notified when Home Fleet was ten minutes to engagement range.”

  “So I did,” Marius agreed.

  He studied the display, allowing himself a brief moment of amusement. Home Fleet hadn’t been drilled properly, and it showed, as their gunners hadn’t even tried to intercept the drones Marius had ordered launched. The Grand Fleet, on the other hand, had been drilling since before launching the operation that had beaten Admiral Justinian and his rebels. Marius had no doubt of the outcome if the two fleets collided, but it might just be avoidable.

  “Communications, open a channel,” Drake said. He knew that the officer would understand what he was talking about, as they’d discussed the details during the long voyage to Earth several times already.

  “Aye, sir,” the communications officer said. “Channel open.”

  Marius keyed his console.

  “My name is Marius Drake, Commanding Officer of the Grand Fleet,” he said. His words would be heard all over the Solar System. “You probably have been told that I am a rebel, that I followed in the footsteps of Admiral Justinian, Governor Hartkopf and the many other warlords. You probably have also been told that I have come to take over Earth and the Federation for myself. None of those things are true.

  “I swore an oath that I would defend the Federation against all enemies, foreign and domestic. I meant every word of that oath. I come now to remove one of the greatest threats to the Federation, the corrupt and decayed Senate. The Senate issued orders to slaughter—in cold blood—people it deemed to be a threat to their interests, so it could claim their land and property for itself. The Senate, in doing so, triggered an insurgency that will claim the lives of millions of soldiers as well as civilians in the coming months. The Senate even tried to have me killed by one of my own crew.

  “We all know the truth. The Senate has become a monstrous entity tearing at the heart of the Federation. We all know that the Senate passes laws intended to allow interstellar corporations to ravish the colonies and exploit them for their own ends. We all know that the Senate’s interference in military affairs has led to stunning defeats. Is there anyone who can deny that the Senate has become the domestic enemy of the entire human race? Is there anyone who doubts that the Senate has been fuelling the tensions that force worlds to consider seceding from the Federation? Is there anyone who feels, as I do, that the Senate has gone too far?

  “My fleet and I are here to remove the Senate. We will replace it with a fairer system that cannot be exploited so easily. My government will not last longer than ten years, perhaps less; but that will be long enough for us to push through real and lasting reforms. I swear that upon my name and the honor of the Federation Navy.

  “I speak now to the men and women of Home Fleet, and Earth’s defenses,” he concluded. “If you want to join us, please do; we will welcome you. If you are uneasy with removing the government and choose to stand aside, we will not treat you as enemies. But if you choose to fight, consider carefully. You may be fighting on the wrong side. The choice is yours.”

  He released the console and took a breath. If they were lucky...

  * * *

  Admiral Featherstone felt every one of Drake’s words slam into his tired mind. He couldn’t deny the truth of what he said, yet Featherstone had gone too far to simply change sides. His patrons had boosted his career and ensured that he reached the very highest levels, yet he’d always known that there would be a price.

  He would have been happy to stand aside, but he had no choice. The Senate had to be defended. It was the legitimate government of human space and changing it by force, for whatever reason, was wrong. The population could vote out the Senate if they chose.

  “Prepare to engage,” he ordered.

  It all happened very quickly. The sensor officer drew a weapon from under his console and opened fire, gunning down the four Internal Security troopers on the bridge. Featherstone froze, feeling hot liquid trickling down his legs, as two other officers opened fire. A stray blast hit one of the consoles, which exploded in a shower of sparks, just before a plasma bolt slammed into his head.

  He was dead before he hit the deck.

  * * *

  “Admiral...Home Fleet seems to have gone mad!”

  Marius nodded slowly. Home Fleet had fallen right out of formation. A handful of starships were still continuing towards the Grand Fleet, but the remainder seemed to be drifting or had simply come to a stop. Several smaller ships had turned and were accelerating away as hard as they could, while one superdreadnaught had opened fire on its neighbour. Three other superdreadnaughts fired on the offender and blew the ship into flaming plasma.

  His gamble had worked, he realized. He’d known that discontent had been spreading through the Federation Navy, but he hadn’t realized just how bad it was, or how many crewmen had been making preparations for mutiny. Part of his mind wondered, grimly, if future historians would claim that this was the moment when the Federation died; the remainder concentrated on the here and now. There would be time to consider the implications later.

  “Admiral, a number of ships have surrendered,” the communications officer said. “Several more are gripped by heavy fighting and are urgently requesting help...”

  “Send the Marines,” Marius ordered. There was no time to waste. “I want at least a platoon of Marines on each ship, with a scuttling charge. We will establish their bona fides before we trust too much.”

  He looked up and, for a moment, his eyes met Garibaldi’s. The younger officer looked stunned, but then he’d never had the displeasure of serving in Home Fleet, where there was no action to trim out the worthless incompetents who infested the fleet. Home Fleet had never been expected to see serious action, at least until Admiral Justinian had reminded the Senate that they could be threatened.

  “Helm, take the fleet to Earth,” he ordered. There was no point in dawdling any longer. “Best possible speed.”

  “Aye, sir,” the helmsman said.

  Marius looked up at the display. Earth was surrounded by civilian starships, each one trying to flee before the warships arrived at Earth. Marius shrugged, ignoring them. They didn’t matter. All that mattered was capturing the Senate and ending the struggle before it could begin.

  * * *

  “Home Fleet is in a state of mutiny,” the dispatcher reported. He sounded hysterical. “Admiral Featherstone is dead!”

  “What do we do?” Alison demanded. “What do we do?”

  Carlton was having similar thoughts. If Home Fleet could be subverted, so could Earth’s defenses. Even if they remained loyal—and that couldn’t be guaranteed, even with the presence of Internal Security troopers on each platform—the Grand Fleet could break through the defenses and bombard Earth into submission. Hastily, he reviewed his emergency plans and realized that there wasn’t time to activate them before the Grand Fleet reached orbit. They had placed far too much faith in Admiral Featherstone...

  “I need to think,” he snapped, with a glare that cut Alison off before she could continue to bleat like a scared lamb. “I think we need to surrender now, while we still have something to bargain with.”

  Alison stared at him, her eyes going wide. “But he’ll kill us!”

  “He’s a
man of honor,” Carlton said sharply. “The point is, we have something to bargain with now, our control over Earth’s defenses. That allows us to ask for better terms than we might expect if he breaks through the defenses, or if they go over to him.”

  “We could run,” Alison protested.

  Carlton snorted.

  “Where would we go? We can’t get to the spacecraft in time to get off-planet, while anywhere we would want to live on Earth would be easy for him to find. Do you want to flee into the slums and pretend that we were never Senators...?”

  “No,” Alison hissed. “Very well; you talk to the bastard. Tell him that we will surrender on terms.”

  * * *

  Marius kept his expression blank as Grand Senator Brockington made his plea for terms. He’d anticipated that the Senate would fold, once they saw what happened to Home Fleet, and he’d had time to consider what he’d offer them. He’d come up with some very generous terms, but he doubted that the Senate would see it that way.

  “Here are my terms,” he said. “You will order the defenses of Earth to stand down and prepare to be boarded. You will order the ground-side police force to remain at their posts until they are relieved. You will surrender yourselves to my Marines—every Senator on Earth, your families and anyone who wants to go with you—and prepare to be transported to exile. If you refuse these terms, there will be no further negotiation.”

  There was a long pause as the message winged its way to Earth.

  Eventually, a reply came flying back. As he’d expected, the Senate had accepted his terms. Marius figured they intended to return one day and resume their positions of power, but it wasn’t going to happen. They’d be sent to a comfortable world—Manchu or Paradise, perhaps—where they would live out the rest of their lives without contact with the Federation. That would put an end to them and their meddling.

  He leaned back in his command chair. “Well,” he said to no one in particular. “We just took over the Federation. What do we do now?”

  No one, not even Garibaldi, tried to frame a reply.

  Chapter Fifty

  In war, winning is only half the battle. You have to capitalize on your victory.

  -Observations on the Navy, 3987

  Earth (Sol) System, 4098

  “I’m going to give you Valiant,” Admiral Drake said a day after the Grand Fleet had captured Earth. Roman had been half-convinced that the admiral had forgotten him in the whirlwind of securing Earth’s vital locations and transporting the Senators and their families to temporary accommodation. “Technically, you’re too young to serve as a commodore, but I think I’m going to have to give you a temporary promotion anyway.”

  Admiral Drake tapped the display, which focused in on the Rim. “There are too many worrying reports coming from this Sector,” he said. “You’ll see the intelligence reports; if they’re accurate, we might have at least two hostile races in the Beyond. Your task would be to defeat the pirates in the sector and survey the stars beyond the Rim.”

  “Yes, sir,” Roman said. He didn’t want to be promoted out of a command chair, even for a short while, but he suspected he didn’t have very much choice in the matter. If nothing else, there would definitely be room for independent action. The Rim was just too large to be patrolled by a task force operating as a single unit. “I won’t let you down.”

  “I’m promoting your girlfriend to Major and assigning her command of a Marine Regiment,” Admiral Drake added. “I dare say you’ll find something to talk about on the trip to the Rim.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Roman said, blushing. He hadn’t wanted to admit that he was worried about losing her comforting presence on his ship—and in his bed, of course. “I think she’ll enjoy the chance to stretch herself a little farther.”

  “Just remember, you’re not out there to invade a whole alien empire by yourself,” Admiral Drake cautioned. “We may have to extend the Rim out to enclose their space—and bring them under our control—but we need to put our own house in order first. The remaining warlords need to be mopped up and crushed; the Survey Service needs to be restarted...there’s too many things we need to do. And we need to secure the space lines so that regular shipping can restart. There are too many pirate ships operating out there because of the war.”

  He shook his head. “Be careful out there, Roman,” he said, clapping Roman on the shoulder. “I don’t want to lose any more good people out along the Rim.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Roman said. “I won’t let you down.”

  * * *

  “Tell me something,” Marius said, once they were in a secure compartment. “Was this what the Brotherhood had in mind all along?”

  Professor Kratman shrugged.

  “Not in particular,” he said. “We believed that something would have to happen in order to force the Senate to reform before the entire Federation shattered. You becoming emperor...”

  Marius scowled. It hadn’t taken more than a few hours before High Society—what was left of it—had started clamoring to recognize the emperor. He’d promised himself that there would be a brief and formal coronation, but High Society seemed to think that it needed a grand event with a golden crown. It was galling, in a way; he’d taken supreme power, and he was as much a prisoner as most of the Senate.

  “Still, you have to be careful,” his former commander warned. “If you move too quickly, you run the risk of causing an economic disaster. The industrialist strangleholds will have to be broken carefully, or they might destroy the economy out of spite.”

  “And even threats won’t deter them,” Marius sighed. He looked up. “I’m appointing you to my cabinet, by the way.”

  Professor Kratman blinked. “Why?”

  “I want you where I can see you,” Marius said firmly. “I think the Brotherhood has spent too long in the shadows. It’s time to come out into the light.

  “And besides,” he added, “I trust you.”

  “I don’t think...”

  “We’ll discuss it later,” Marius said. He tapped the pistol he wore at his belt. Vaughn’s old pistol, as ready for use as it had been the day it was produced. “I have one piece of unfinished business left to complete.”

  * * *

  The Marines had been fairly gentle with the Senators and their families, although the Senators had complained loudly and bitterly before being ordered to shut up. Most of their families—including some very young children and a handful of trusted retainers—had been transported to a bulk carrier for the journey to Paradise—a resort world that would suffice as a place of exile—but a number had been kept on Earth. Marius had issued specific instructions for the twelve most senior Senators—including the leaders of both factions—to remain behind, and those orders had been obeyed.

  He wrinkled his nose as he stepped into the prison. It was normally used to house involuntary emigrants—men and women who had been arrested on Earth and sentenced to exile—and it was clear that the Senators hadn’t adjusted well to their captivity. Each of them had one hand firmly cuffed to the wall, restricting their mobility and ensuring that they posed no threat to the warder and his men. The room itself stank of piss and shit and human sweat, the feelings of the arrested people who would never see Earth again.

  “Admiral,” a voice gasped. “You have to get us out of here!”

  It was Alison, formerly the leader of the Socialist Faction. Now, her face had been washed clean by the wardens and her fine clothes had been replaced by a shapeless prison garment. A bruise on her face marked the spot where she’d run into a wall while the Marines were trying to arrest her. Marius had read the report on the incident and it was clear that one of the Marines, an exile from a world under Socialist control, had done it deliberately.

  Marius deliberately allowed his eyes to wander away.

  “And why,” he said in a tone of feigned unconcern, “should I do anything to help you?”

  “But...but...you gave your word of honor,” Alison protested.

&nb
sp; The other Senators murmured in agreement. “You promised us...”

  “I did, didn’t I?” Marius allowed himself a tight smirk.

  He allowed the moment to drag itself out.

  “Let me tell you a little story, to help us all pass the time,” he said. “Once upon a time, there was a great chaos in a planetary sector and no one knew which way to jump. And in this sector, there were men and women who had lives and families and friends of their own—just people, ordinary people. And some of these people jumped to the right side, and others jumped to the wrong side. And, as so often happens in human history, the right side won and the wrong side lost. After all, we know the right side won because the winners write the history books and they were the winners. Of course they were the right side.”

  They were all listening to him, perhaps wondering if he’d gone mad.

  “And the people who had sided with the wrong side panicked,” he continued, wondering if any of them had drawn the correct conclusion. It wouldn’t be long before they all understood. “They thought that they were all doomed, because the winners had threatened to kill all the losers. And some of them fled and others tried to do their duty as best as they could, hoping that they could scare the winners or at least hurt them enough to make them back down. But they couldn’t, you see; they couldn’t stop the inevitable wave of fate rolling over them. They were trapped, helpless—and doomed.

  “And then the winners came to them and offered them a chance to live. The losers were relieved and delighted. They might have lost, but it wouldn’t cost them their lives; their families and friends would be safe. They accepted the offer gratefully and everyone was happy—well, everyone apart from some of the winners. Once the losers were helpless, they went back on the offer. I’m sure you can imagine the results.”

  His voice darkened. “The losers were all slaughtered,” he said. “And the winners went on to win.”

  Alison’s voice, when it finally came, was weak and feeble. “But you promised!”