There was a long pause.
“At least nine starships, all dreadnaught-sized,” the tactical officer said, finally. “They’re mounting modern scanners and tactical drives. I can’t pick up anything else at this distance.”
Roman nodded, thinking hard. The Federation Navy had only a handful of dreadnaughts in service—and none of them had been assigned to this sector. The dreadnaught design had been superseded by the superdreadnaughts, with the last dreadnaughts being built during the Inheritance Wars. After the wars, some had been sent to the Naval Reserve, while others had been decommissioned and sold as scrap. ONI had warned the Federation Navy that pirates and Outsiders were buying decommissioned ships for their own purposes, but no one had put a stop to the practice. Even a hull, without drives, weapons or sensors, was worth billions of credits.
It stood to reason that warlords would buy up every starship they could find, hiring mercenaries to help fight their wars and defend their worlds against the Federation Navy. It was rare to encounter a mercenary unit with anything larger than a heavy cruiser, but Roman couldn’t think of any reason why one couldn’t have nine dreadnaughts—apart from the crewing issue. A dreadnaught needed upwards of four thousand men to run effectively, although they could have modernized the ship and placed greater dependence on automated systems than the Federation Navy preferred.
Or perhaps one of the warlords had made a deal with the Outsiders and offered support in exchange for military assistance. Roman could see the sense in that, too.
“And AP-2?” Roman asked.
“Nothing, as far as I can tell,” the tactical officer said. “They don’t even have an ICN station on duty near the Asimov Point...”
“Unsurprising,” Roman commented dryly. It wasn’t as if the Marx System had anything to offer, apart from pirates and perhaps a black colony or two. The civil war that had literally destroyed the entire planet hadn’t left much behind. “Still, we will be careful. Very careful.”
Midway slipped towards AP-2 carefully, every passive sensor alert for a prowling starship. Logically, Roman told himself, there was no reason for Governor Hartkopf’s forces to picket the Asimov Point, not when there was nothing to be gained by trying to hold it and no reason to expect anything to come out of it. On the other hand, the governor had to know that Admiral Justinian would turn on him one day and perhaps attempt to use AP-2 as a possible angle of attack. In that case, securing the Asimov Point might seem like a good idea...although there were more direct ways for Justinian to get at his enemy without a costly diversion.
“No sign of any cloaked ship,” the tactical officer reported very quietly. There was no need to speak softly—sound didn’t travel in the vacuum of space—but no one had been able to break crews of the habit. “Still...passive sensors only, sir.”
Roman nodded. Passive sensors wouldn’t give the ship away, but they also meant that Midway’s sensor capability was grossly reduced. A cloaked enemy ship near the Asimov Point might spot them and launch a barrage before Roman’s active sensors located her presence. It was risky, but it cut three weeks off their journey.
“Take us in,” he ordered. Midway glided forwards, very gingerly, as if she expected an ambush at any second. They were within the Asimov Point... “Jump.”
Space twisted around the cruiser, then they were suddenly in the Marx System.
“Report,” Roman snapped. At least missiles weren’t already being fired towards them. “Are we clear?”
“No sign of any watching picket ships, captain,” the sensor officer reported. “The system might as well be deserted.”
“Maybe,” Roman said. It would take months of searching to locate a hidden colony or starship—if the task was even remotely possible. “Helm, take us towards the first waypoint. And then we will go pay a call on The Hive.”
He smiled at their relief. If nothing else, the long trip was finally over.
“It’s time to go hunting,” he assured them. “Let’s see what we can find, shall we?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
The Brotherhood is not a banned organization. This is because of several reasons: Senators have been known to find it useful, it helps promote human unity (and therefore Federation rule) and, perhaps most importantly, no one knows half—if that—of the members of the Brotherhood. The secret society’s leaders are completely unknown. Anyone could be a Brother or Sister of Humanity. Anyone.
-The Dark Secrets of the Federation, 3999
FNS Magnificent, Boskone System, 4095
“I understand that you sent for me, admiral?”
Marius leaned back in his chair and contemplated Commodore Arunika. She was pretty, as pretty as she’d been the day they’d first met, back before the Retribution Force had set off on its ill-fated mission. That wasn’t too surprising, considering modern anti-aging treatments—Arunika’s file claimed she was over sixty years old—but what was surprising was that she was still a Commodore. ONI handled promotions internally—the Promotion Board didn’t sit in judgement on Intelligence personnel—yet she should have been promoted long ago.
But then, that would have meant transferring her away from Magnificent. And that suggested all kinds of reasons why she might not have been promoted.
Her file had been remarkably thin, even for his clearance. Arunika had been born on Hindustan—the first world settled from India, back during the Second Expansion Era—and abandoned her caste to join the Federation Navy. She’d also abandoned her surname, a sign that she had turned her back completely on her homeworld. Hindustan wasn’t known for being very tolerant of differences and Marius had heard, from a friend who had visited the planet, that some of its citizens knew little about the Federation and cared less. Some of them might even believe they were still on Earth. Arunika, at least, had known better. ONI had snapped her up during Basic Evaluation and trained her as an analyst, before allowing her to move up in the ranks during the purge that followed the Blue Star War. And, somewhere along the way, she’d been recruited into the Brotherhood.
Marius kept his face under tight control, considering his possible options. It wasn’t common for a Brotherhood member to declare themselves openly, no matter what the situation. Arunika had probably been ordered to do so by her superiors, which suggested that part of their reasoning focused around Marius himself. The Brotherhood was supposed to have operatives and members at all levels of society—an outlook that would irritate parts of the Senate—and no one knew for sure who led the Brotherhood, if anyone did. It said something about their influence and reach that the various intelligence agencies hadn’t tracked down the Brotherhood’s leadership, although it was quite possible that the Brotherhood controlled Federation Intelligence. The Brotherhood was not exactly a banned organization, but if Marius had learned one thing in three years, it was that the Senate would respond harshly to any threat to their power—and they could conceivably regard the Brotherhood as a threat.
“Let’s cut right to the chase,” he said once he’d ensured that the cabin was sealed. “Why does the Brotherhood have an interest in me?”
Arunika leaned forward, her face expressionless. “What makes you think that the Brotherhood has an interest in you?”
“You’re here,” Marius countered. He had little patience for games. “You declared yourself to me—to everyone on this vessel—and you’ve stayed with me. Why would you do that unless you wanted me to know who you work for?”
“Point,” Arunika conceded with a smile. “Although I don’t actually work for the Brotherhood. We are more of a collective society than a top-down system. Those of us who are accepted have a say in our collective decision-making.”
And I can believe as much of that as I like, Marius thought dryly. It seemed a cumbersome system, although perhaps it worked better in practice. The Brotherhood had been around since the First Interstellar War, and presumably had a great deal of practice in remaining underground and organizing themselves.
“But as for why we are interested
in you, I would have thought that was obvious,” she added. “You’re the commanding officer of this fleet.”
“Your interest in me started before the Battle of Jefferson,” Marius pointed out. “I say again; why me?”
“You saved Earth,” Arunika explained. “That alone marked you as a person of interest. When you were appointed to the Retribution Force, we decided that it would be better if one of us accompanied you, if only to share our view of the situation.”
Marius’s eyes narrowed. “Did you know that Admiral Justinian was planning a rebellion before the Battle of Earth?”
“I’m afraid not,” Arunika admitted. “If we had known, we would have taken action to stop him before he launched his attempted coup. Sadly, Justinian and the other warlords are a symptom rather than the cause of the Federation’s problems. The Federation had been falling apart for a long time before someone decided to take advantage of its weakness.”
“As Captain—Professor—Kratman told me,” Marius said. Something clicked in his mind. Professor Kratman had access to far more information than he should have been able to access. “He’s one of you, isn’t he?”
“He could be,” Arunika said. “I don’t get to know everyone in the Brotherhood.”
“And how do you know, then, that I am not already part of the Brotherhood?” Marius smiled.
“There are signs and countersigns,” Arunika said. She touched the space between her breasts with one long, dark finger. “I’ll lay our cards on the table. Our purpose is to keep humanity—which means the Federation—strong and supreme. A strong humanity is one that isn’t threatened by alien invaders. This prolonged period of civil war risks shattering that unity and inviting aliens to try their luck. The Outsiders are already probing our borders, admiral. It will not be long before they start a full-scale invasion.”
Marius sat back in his chair. “How do you know that’s what they’re planning to do?”
“We have our sources,” Arunika said. “I’m afraid that we cannot give details, even to a prospective recruit, but we believe the Outsiders have been planning to invade for a long time. An alliance of Albans and aliens, an abomination against nature, will sweep down on the Rim and push in toward the Core Worlds. And if we keep fighting this civil war, we won’t have the power to stop them.”
Marius shivered, for her words conjured up a repulsive historical nightmare. Maurice Alban had been a Federation official back during the First Interstellar War who had either believed the lies the Snakes had told him or had sold out completely. Alban had made propaganda broadcasts to human worlds, attempted to organize human laborers working for the aliens and even acted as an advisor for the Snakes. He’d been assassinated four years after the war began, but his name lived on in infamy as a human stupid enough to believe that humans and aliens could coexist, or worse, that humans could submit to aliens. An alliance between Outsiders and unknown alien foes was the Federation’s worst nightmare.
“As you are currently the Federation’s foremost military officer, we have an interest in recruiting you,” Arunika added. “We have information and support—and influence—that you would find useful. In exchange, we’d want you to advise us and perhaps act on our requests from time to time.”
Marius considered it for a long moment. “I swore an oath to the Federation,” he said finally. “I cannot act against orders, even for the Brotherhood...”
“We wouldn’t expect you to betray your oath,” Arunika assured him. “We swore similar oaths. You want to protect and defend the human race, as you swore when you were commissioned into the Federation Navy; we share the same goals and oaths. We would not ask you to commit treason on our behalf.”
“I see,” Marius said. “What happens now?”
“If you accept, I make contact with my superiors and you get welcomed into the Brotherhood,” Arunika said. She held up her hand and displayed the silver ring. “If you refuse, you won’t hear anything more from us. We’re not going to assassinate you for daring to refuse.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Marius said dryly. “Do I get time to think about it?”
It occurred to him that the Brotherhood simply didn’t need to assassinate anyone. A person who accepted their offer would have his career path smoothed by unseen allies, to the point where he owed his position to the Brotherhood and would be willing to do anything for them. A person who refused simply wouldn’t be able to harvest any of the benefits of membership. And the Brotherhood was old. They could have their people in all levels of the Federation Navy, perhaps even in the Senate.
But he had already risen as high as he could go in the Federation Navy...
“Take as much time to think about it as you need,” Arunika said. She hesitated again. “Purely because your interests and ours coincide, I should tell you that we orchestrated the press campaign on Earth that ensured that the Senate couldn’t simply dismiss you when your military victories turned you into a possible threat to them. You may wish to consider what else we could do—both for you and final victory—before you make your decision.”
* * *
Marius found Vaughn in Marine Country, watching as the latest regiment of Marines ran through their training exercises before being deployed to Maskirovka on a pacification mission. It wasn’t the role that anyone wanted for the Marines, most particularly the Marine Corps itself, but it officially provided a training opportunity for the young soldiers. Unofficially, pacification battalions were in great demand throughout the Federation at the moment, so none could be spared for Maskirovka. It was butcher’s work, and Vaughn had complained bitterly about it—fortunately in private. Marius was sure that any public complaints of this nature would not have been good for Vaughn’s career.
The Marine General nodded after Vaughn realized Marius was there, but frowned when Marius gave him their private hand signal to ask for an immediate—and private—chat. Vaughn nodded again, and led Marius to Vaughn’s own office, which should be clear of surveillance devices. Marine counter-surveillance teams made sure of that.
“So.” Vaughn waved Marius to a seat in front of his desk. “What’s eating you now?”
“The Brotherhood,” Marius said.
He outlined everything that had happened since he’d heard the message from Professor Kratman. It wasn’t something he would share with anyone else—the Brotherhood wouldn’t react kindly if its secrets were spilled to outsiders—but he trusted Vaughn completely. That said, there was no way to know if the Marine wasn’t a member of the Brotherhood. It would be easy to give into paranoia and assume that everyone was part of the Brotherhood.
He finished with, “I confess that I have no idea what to do.”
“You always were too focused on space battles to see the more subtle political battlefield,” Vaughn commented, when Marius had finished. “You should try running a counter-insurgency campaign once in your life. It will give you a whole new appreciation for politics—and teach you how to eat soup with a knife.”
“I’m serious,” Marius protested.
“So am I.” Vaughn gave him a long, level look. “The Brotherhood relies upon secrecy, misdirection, and rumor to build its power. Reality doesn’t matter, not compared to what people think the Brotherhood is, or about what it can do.”
Marius contemplated this for a long moment, then set it aside. “Still, look what they’re offering. How can I turn it down?”
“Do you have any real evidence that their claims are true?” Vaughn asked in return.
“They put an agent—probably more than one—into ONI,” Marius pointed out. “And they can steer her career so it intersects with mine. I think they have a great deal of power and influence, even if it is behind the scenes.”
Vaughn considered it for a long moment. “Now you know why I never followed my father into politics...well, that and I knew my father’s name,” he said.
Marius snorted humorlessly.
“Let’s see.” Vaughn steepled his fingers. “You have the choice b
etween accepting the Brotherhood’s help, which would give you access to far more influence than you have at the moment, or refusing their offer and carrying on without their help, right?”
Marius nodded.
“And what are they asking for in return?” Vaughn asked. “They’re just asking for you to do your duty. It isn’t as if they’ve ordered you to bombard Earth with antimatter bombs, is it?”
“So you think I should accept their offer?” Marius asked him.
“I didn’t say that,” Vaughn demurred with a smile.
“No, but I can tell you think it,” Marius shot back. “What happens if the price is too high?”
“It’s good to know, given what they’re offering, that you consider some prices to be too high,” he said.
Marius scowled, taking the point.
“I suppose it all comes down to trust, really,” Vaughn said thoughtfully. “Do you trust the Brotherhood to have humanity’s best interests in mind?”
“I’m not comfortable with it,” Marius admitted. “I don’t want an unelected elite dictating Federation policy.”
“Oh? And what, exactly, is the Senate?” Vaughn shrugged. “You know as well as I do that decisions made light years away are never as good as decisions made on the spot. The Senate causes problems for colonists and out-worlds simply by insisting on unified regulations, or worse yet, levying taxes that the poor colonists are simply unable to pay. And it doesn’t matter if the Senate actually means to cause harm or not—the fact of the matter is that the Senate is causing harm. The Senate isn’t designed to respond to democratic pressure from the out-worlds, which provokes rebellion and revolt.”
“Like the Inheritance Wars.” Marius ran his hand through his hair. “I wish I knew what to do.”
Vaughn laughed.
Marius gave him a quizzical look.
“I know you very well,” Vaughn said. “You’ve already made up your mind; you just want me to help clarify it. You want to preserve the Federation, while the Brotherhood also wants to preserve the Federation. You want to beat the warlords before they become too entrenched to stop, and the Brotherhood also wants to beat the warlords before they become too entrenched to stop. You want to stop Outsider raiding fleets pillaging the Rim, and of course the Brotherhood--”
Barbarians at the Gates Page 24