Tiberius waited, nervously, for the results. In the end, all of the remaining Heads decided to offer to surrender, on terms.
“You will speak to the rebels,” Lord Rothschild said. “Everyone else will withdraw to the security bunkers.”
“Not bad, for lads with only a few weeks of training,” Frandsen said. “They certainly never expected us.”
Adeeba nodded. There was one place in the universe where the Empire had to tread carefully — and that was Earth. And there was one place on Earth — the High City — where smashing an insurrection from orbit was completely out of the question. It still astonished her that the underground had managed to move a small regiment of men up to the walls, let alone deploy them without being detected. But they had done a remarkable job.
She glanced down at the terminal, shaking her head in awe. The underground leadership had admitted, finally, that they had a backdoor access route into the planetary defence network. If the imps wanted to shut them out, they would have to shut down the entire system, rendering themselves blind and mute. Instead, they would have to watch helplessly as the rebels took advantage of their system to coordinate their attacks. And the High City wasn’t the only place under attack.
“Let’s hope the bastards see sense,” she muttered. “Or that Colin gets here quickly.”
She winced at the thought. There were Household Troops in the High City itself, while there were regiments of loyalist Marines and Blackshirts in orbit. If Colin couldn’t get to them in time, the underground would do a great deal of damage, but would eventually — inevitably –be wiped out. But the aristocracy would have had a scare…
Sure, she thought. And they will make the population of Earth pay for it.
Colin couldn’t help being impressed by the sheer scale of activity in the Sol System, even though he knew that much of it belonged to the Thousand Families. Sol was still the most densely populated star system in the Empire; Earth, Mars and Venus all had populations that numbered in the billions. But most of the population was completely helpless to alter the course of the Empire.
“Home Fleet is deploying to meet us,” the tactical officer reported. “They’re not waiting in orbit.”
“Understandable,” Colin said. “The last thing they want is a missile to accidentally strike Earth.”
He studied Home Fleet as it advanced, pushing up and outwards to escape the gravity shadow. Their movements suggested that there had been some improvements, but despite their superiority in numbers Colin was confident of victory. The ships showed plenty of signs of ill-treatment, just like Morrison… and their CO had clearly not been as good a slave driver as Admiral Wachter. In fact, he’d opened the fleet up to a disastrous strike… if Colin had flickered in a little closer, he might have been able to obliterate the fleet in his first missile salvo.
Now, Colin silently asked the enemy CO, did you take a calculated risk or did you merely get lucky.
“Launch drones,” he ordered. “Is there anything from the surface?”
“Nothing,” the communications officer said. “Wait… picking up a message using our codes. The underground needs help.”
Colin nodded. “Increase speed,” he ordered. There was no time to be subtle. “Take us right down their throats.”
He pushed himself back into his chair. One way or the other, he told himself, it would all be over soon.
Tiberius linked into the planetary communications network, then requested a channel to the rebel ships. It took longer than usual to open the link, reminding him that the rebels didn’t answer to the Thousand Families any longer. Normally, if he wanted to talk to anyone at any time, they would be present within minutes. But the rebels could make him wait just for the sheer hell of it.
“This is Admiral Walker,” a voice said, finally. The voiceprint matched, according to the analysis, although he knew it was easy to fool them. “What can I do for you?”
“We would like to discuss a truce,” Tiberius said, carefully. Had they waited too long? The rebels were threatening both Home Fleet and the High City itself, as well as hundreds of positions in orbit and on the ground. “It is time to end this war.”
There was a long pause. “Shut down Home Fleet and the orbital defences, completely,” Admiral Walker ordered. “Then tell your forces on the ground to pull back, leaving the underground alone. And then we can talk.”
Tiberius considered it for a long moment. If Home Fleet shut down, the rebels would have an easy set of targets if they intended treachery. But Tiberius had no illusions about how the battle would go. And, once the rebels won, there would be less incentive for them to seek peace on any terms.
“Very well,” he said. “I will issue the orders.”
“And then you can board my starship,” Admiral Walker added. “We will discuss the peace terms in person.”
“Understood,” Tiberius said.
The rebels held their positions as he boarded his private shuttle and launched himself into space. He’d travelled in space before, yet he’d never felt so exposed as the shuttle swept away from the planetary defence network and headed towards the rebel fleet. The blunt-nosed superdreadnaughts looked terrifying on the display, their weapons tracking him and his craft with effortless ease. If they had lured him out merely to execute him…
He pushed the thought aside, desperately. He had to assume the rebels were sincere. Because, if they weren’t, the Thousand Families were doomed.
Colin could see the resemblance between Tiberius and Pompey Cicero as the young man — he seemed surprisingly young to be a Family Head — stepped out of the shuttle. Colin watched through the display as the Marines met him, searched him with brisk efficiency and marched him through a series of airlocks and into a small conference room. Shaking his head, Colin left the display and walked through the airlock himself.
“Welcome,” he said, dryly. “I assume your messengers gave you our terms?”
Tiberius nodded. He had less practice than Colin at concealing his feelings, Colin noted, probably because he was still very young. On the other hand, his youth had led him to consider matters that the other Family Heads had found impossible to imagine. Colin hadn’t been surprised to learn that it had been Tiberius who had proposed Admiral Wachter as Morrison CO. And it had definitely worked out for him.
“We still have cards to play,” Tiberius said. “Let me be blunt, if you don’t mind.”
Colin smiled, then nodded.
“We control most of the Empire’s economic base,” Tiberius said. “If you destroy us, we’ll destroy the economy for good. It will take you years to rebuild, years you might not have.”
“True enough,” Colin conceded. “On the other hand, you must understand that you will not be allowed to retain power.”
“We will surrender our political power,” Tiberius said. “In exchange, we will maintain control over our industries. We will… adapt to a universe of competition, where we no longer divide the pie up between us and exclude everyone else. In time, those of us who deserve to survive will survive.”
Colin lifted an eyebrow. “Are you confident of survival?”
“We have no other choice,” Tiberius said, simply.
He was right, Colin knew, but there was a great deal he wasn’t saying. Even with the legal barriers to competition removed, the Thousand Families would still be in a strong position; they’d already own much of the industry their competitors would have to duplicate. Did they believe that Colin wouldn’t notice? Or did they think that situation would endure indefinitely? There were already plans to expand the industrial base that belonged to the Roosevelt Family in Sector 117. Given time, there would be competition on equal terms.