Marius kept his expression blank, drawing on years of experience since graduating from Luna Academy. “The level of forces assigned to my command, Your Excellency, is insufficient for the task at hand,” he said as calmly as he could. “If you want results, you need to assign me additional ships.”
The senators murmured audibly, possibly talking to their staff members via communications implant. Of course, using such implants in public was impolite, but who would dare tell that to the Senators? Everyone else pretended not to notice, but Marius would remember the slight.
“You have been assigned over three hundred starships,” Brockington said after a long pause. “Why is that insufficient?”
“Your Excellency, my area of responsibility covers over five thousand light years and four hundred inhabited planetary systems,” Marius said. “The odds against me managing to place a single unit in a star system that is about to be attacked by pirates are astronomical. I cannot provide reliable protection for merchant shipping, let alone hunt down the various pirate bases, which are utterly impossible to detect in such a vast area of space. Furthermore, I have been denied the authority to insist on convoys being formed and escorted. Governor Barany has flatly refused my requests to institute even a limited convoy system, which my advisors have estimated would cut our losses by over a third.”
He thought rapidly. Should he bring up the other matter? If ONI was right, Governor Barany was actually taking money from the pirates. And that couldn’t be allowed.
“Worse, there is evidence to suggest that there are at least three unknown alien races in the Beyond, races that are aware of our existence and are actually providing help and support to the pirates. They may well have absorbed human technology, in direct violation of Directive 001. When I brought this to the governor’s attention, he refused to grant permission to launch survey missions, let alone punitive raids against the unknown aliens. Instead, he promised to send the question to the Senate. I received no response by the time I was recalled.”
It took everything he had to keep the anger out of his voice, but he managed it.
“The pirates have graduated from pest to serious annoyance,” he continued after a beat. “They started by raiding freighters; now, they’re raiding entire planets and carting off vast numbers of humans to use as slaves. We captured a pirate ship three years ago that carried nothing but human females, who were apparently destined for prostitution or slavery. The settlers out there are paying the pirates to leave them alone, giving them money or women in exchange for peace.”
Marius hoped the Senators understood just how wrong that was, but worse was yet to come.
“And that’s not all, as those settlers who refuse to cooperate often die, Your Excellency. This is most likely why pirates have destroyed at least four colonies down to the last man, woman and child.”
There was an uneasy pause, as several of the Senators busied themselves with their terminals rather than look at Marius or their fellows.
“How many do you believe died in the last ten years?” Senator Chang Li asked. “How many humans have died because we didn’t protect them?”
Marius considered her for a long moment. Back when the Federation was formed, the older planets had insisted they be allowed to represent their daughter colonies in the Senate, something that had dovetailed nicely with the limit on how many Senators could be voted into office. In practice, it ensured that the out-worlds, the ones at most risk from the pirates, had no voice in government. Senator Chang Li was only the third colonist to serve as a Senator, and she was isolated. The Senators had become aristocrats in all but name.
“The Rim records are of limited value,” Marius admitted. “However, the best estimate I can give you is that over seventy million humans have been killed by the pirates, or carted off to serve as slaves, or have scattered and are hiding from both us and the pirates. The situation is intolerable.”
“It is we who decide what is intolerable,” Grand Senator Alison Wallisch said. Her voice was very cold. “I have here, in my implant, a communication from the governor. He states that Vice Admiral Drake has been unwilling to cooperate with the governor or local governments.” She smiled thinly. “Perhaps you would care to explain why you showed so little respect for properly constituted authority, admiral?”
This time, it was harder to hide the rage.
“With all due respect, Senator, I discovered very quickly that sharing my operational plans with the governor meant that they were shared with the pirates,” Marius told her. “I told the governor about a planned ambush; the pirates somehow avoided it. I told him that I planned a raid on a pirate base; the base was empty when I got there and rigged to blow with antimatter. I told him to keep the information in confidence and not to share it with anyone, not even his wife, yet somehow the information got out.”
“Governor Barany is a man of the highest reputation,” Alison said. “How dare you accuse him of…supplying information to the pirates?”
“The evidence is in his bank accounts,” Marius said, throwing his last card onto the table. “He has a whole series of payments with no discernible source and…”
“Impossible,” Alison said. She turned to her fellow Senators. “The admiral is attempting to excuse his own failures by blaming the governor! I move that we consider this in closed session.”
There was a brief moment of silent communication. “I disagree,” Chang Li said. Her almond eyes sought out Marius. “We need to send more starships into the sector to protect the population.”
“At a colossal cost,” one of the Conservative Senators pointed out. “Deploying an entire fleet into the Rim would strain our logistics quite badly and—”
“There are human lives at stake,” Marius snapped, unable to control himself any longer. “Right now, billions of human lives are at risk of being kidnapped, killed, or simply wiped from existence. And here you are, worrying about cost!”
There was a long pause.
“I think, admiral, that you had better withdraw,” Brockington said. “We will inform you of our decision in due course.”
“The governor is one of her men, of course.”
Marius didn’t turn as the Grand Senator came up behind him. Instead, he stared out of the massive window, looking down towards the towers of Federation City. Centuries ago, the city had been built to serve as a home for the Federation’s Government, back after the First Interstellar War had taught the human race the value of unity. Now, it was just like any other city on Earth: massive towers, teeming slums and a monstrous overpopulation problem. The punishment for any crime, these days, was deportation, yet it was never enough to keep pace with the growing population. Sooner or later, the teeming mass of humanity was going to rise up and drag the entire planet down into a nightmare.
“You spoke truth to power,” Grand Senator Rupert McGillivray said dryly. “What makes you think that that will go unpunished?”
Marius turned. McGillivray was old, perhaps the oldest man in the Federation. His white hair and short, white beard were an affectation—he could have altered it at will—but the slow motion of his walk and the way his body shook told the true story. Traditionally, a Grand Senator who reached such an age—his detractors claimed he was senile—should resign, but McGillivray had held onto his chair. As the last of the Imperialist Faction—the faction that had provoked the Blue Star War—he was effectively impossible to dislodge.