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It was tempting, he knew. Tiberius was right; the Thousand Families could shatter the Empire, even if in doing so they ensured their own destruction. But equal competition would either force them to reform or destroy them, soon enough. And yet…

There would be rebels who would see it as a betrayal. How could they not? Their planets had been ravaged, their lives had been ruined, just to feed a monster that had eventually run out of people to eat. They wanted revenge, they wanted the Thousand Families to suffer and burn… they wouldn’t like the thought of letting the guilty go free.

But if they did try to destroy the Thousand Families, the remainder of the Empire’s economy would collapse. Billions would starve, entire planetary economies would collapse in quick succession, law and order would vanish into nothingness, riots would rapidly turn into mass slaughters, ethnic conflict would be reborn… a new interstellar dark age would be on the cards. It could not be allowed.

Colin took a long breath. He understood warfare, understood how to fight in space. But the Thousand Families understood political and economic warfare far better than any of the rebels. What if there was a sting in the tail? What if they’d already sown the seeds for their recovery? Colin would guard against it, as best as possible, but he knew he might miss something. What if he failed to keep the Families under control?

“There are conditions,” he said, finally. “You will not be permitted military forces of any description, nor will you be permitted political or economic intelligence agencies. We will keep a close eye on you and we will intervene if you do something we don’t like. And we will expect you to help us uncover the full nature of your crimes. Those… individuals who are guilty of real crimes will be punished.”

Tiberius lifted his eyebrows, innocently. “And does that include events like the destruction of Dartmoor Station?”

Colin winced. Dartmoor had been a large orbital colony, owned and operated by the Edison Family as a retirement home for the family’s elders and some of their embarrassments. Five years before Colin had run afoul of Admiral Percival, a terrorist group had smuggled a nuke onto the station and blown it into debris, killing over five thousand people. From what Colin had heard, they’d claimed to be composed of people who’d lost all settlement rights to their homeworld because of financial manipulation. It hadn’t stopped the Empire launching a crackdown on terrorist groups that had sent hundreds of thousands fleeing to the Rim.

“You won’t be able to manipulate the laws any longer,” Colin said. “There will be changes.”

“We understand,” Tiberius said. “Perhaps we will even welcome them.”

Colin, suspecting he was being mocked, gave the younger man a long considering look, then stood up and headed for the hatch. Outside, Daria, Mariko, Salgak and Anderson were waiting for him. They’d watched the entire discussion through the sensors.

“You’ve heard what he had to say,” Colin said, once the hatch was firmly closed. He knew it was soundproofed. “Thoughts?”

“The Thousand Families underestimate us,” Salgak whirred. “Even if there are no major advancements in twenty years, the power of free competition will destroy them. Their skilled personnel will come work for us. Our facilities will produce better technology than their facilities. Those who had no choice, but to buy from them will buy from us instead. Their inflow of money will dwindle away until they run out of money. And then they too will fade away into nothingness.”

“Unless they are just trying to buy time,” Anderson objected. “Right now, they have nothing to lose by offering to surrender on terms. They’re going to lose their power and position anyway. But if they survive, in some form, they can plot to recover their power. It will take years to obliterate the patronage networks.”

He was right, Colin knew. Some clients were openly linked to their patrons. Others were far less obvious about their connections. It would take years even to identify them, let alone remove the clients from their posts. And if some of them were actually well-liked…

Daria and Mariko exchanged glances, then Daria stepped forward. “Hester will not be happy with the decision,” she said, “but I feel we should accept. Right now, we can win the battle, but lose the war. Given time, we can edge them out of the power structure completely and neutralise their threat to the economy.”

“They presumably know that too,” Anderson countered.

“But we can keep them under control, which is more than can be said for chaos,” Daria said. “I don’t think we can threaten starving rioters desperate for food to give to their families, let alone prevent piracy and outrages that will make the current situation look like nothing. We don’t have anything to threaten them with! There will be chaos on Earth — and across the Empire. We need to make the bargain, Colin. There’s no alternative.”

Colin hesitated. He wanted to make the Thousand Families pay, but Daria was right. They didn’t dare risk losing the rest of the economy. And Salgak, he hoped, was right too. Given time, the threat could be neutralised and rendered useless. The aristocracy would fade away, not with a bang, but with a whimper.

And no one else would have to die. He wouldn’t have to slaughter Home Fleet’s crewmen because their masters were too pigheaded to surrender, let alone take out Earth’s orbital industries or bombard the planet itself. The war could finally come to an end on excellent terms.

He stepped back into the conference room. “You’ll have your terms,” he said, slowly. “My people will occupy the high orbitals and Home Fleet’s starships, then land Marines in the High City itself. Your people will be protected.”

“I understand,” Tiberius said. He stood. “The Families Council will have no objection to your terms.”

Colin rather doubted it, but he kept that thought to himself. Maybe they would see sense after all.

He looked up as Daria brought in the single piece of paper, outlining the terms Tiberius read it quickly, then signed his name at the bottom with a real pen. Colin followed suit, wondering what would happen now. They’d won the war…

…And now they would have to win the peace.

* * *

Gaunt stared down at the communicator in her hand. “Did… did we just win?”

“Yes,” Adeeba said. She grinned, remembering the naval myth of the Demon Murphy and how he messed everything up for those who cheered too soon. “Don’t jinx it.”

Chapter Forty

“This is how they live?”

Sidney walked down the streets of the High City, drinking in the weirdest complex he’d seen on any planet. The mansions were strange; they were built in a number of different styles, surrounded by gardens and tiny walls that offered no deterrent to someone who could climb. But, not unlike an asteroid settlement, it seemed that the walls merely marked someone’s property. Custom dictated that no one was allowed to cross the walls without permission.

“Yes,” the Sergeant said, simply.

“I don’t believe it,” Sidney said.

The handful of people on the streets seemed to be on shock. A couple of girls, both so stunningly pretty that they were almost inhuman, stared at the Marines and then fled, as if there were a pack of wild animals on their tail. Several servants looked at them with vague expressions of disapproval, then ignored the Marines completely. And a handful of underground fighters looked oddly disappointed. They’d been told that there would be no chance to loot.