“HE’S A DANGER for two reasons.”
“Two? The first is obvious. If he succeeds in getting that trade agreement, we lose the most favorable chance in generations to remove the Accord influence. But what’s the second?”
Three officers sat in the small sound-and snoop-blanked room, and the special construction absorbed each word even before the next was uttered.
“His success fuels the myth of Accord’s invincibility.”
The third officer, a woman wearing the uniform of a Vice Admiral, frowned, tapped her fingers on the soft top of the table. “Can you honestly say that the average citizen knows, or cares, about whether Accord can hold us off? Who cares? When you get to that level of argument, it’s a leadership discussion. The whole universe knows Accord is not an aggressive force. The more subtle danger is overlooked.”
“Subtleties yet,” snapped the First Fleet Commander. “How subtle is it that our traders are effectively blocked from the entire Rift? How subtle is it that fifty systems followed Accord into rebellion and still look to the black and green for leadership?”
The Rear Admiral shook her head. “For you, it’s not subtle. But who in the Imperial Court really follows the trade flow on the Imperial borders? Who understands that Accord’s example will leave us boxed on all borders? Or that stagnation is bound to follow? N’troya understands that. He should, since he’s the Emperor, but he also claims that the use of force begets force, and that force will lead to the Empire’s downfall.”
“The Grand Admiral hasn’t bought that.”
“Not yet. That’s the position her daughter is staking out at Commerce, and a successful trade treaty with Accord could bolster both the Emperor and young Ku-Smythe. Not incidentally, it would further strengthen Accord.”
The Vice Commander spoke up.
“For generations, they’ve bluffed us, claiming their Institute could poison all the worlds of the Empire. It’s just not possible, but everyone goes along with the blackmail bluff and nods.”
The Rear Admiral looked at the two younger officers, the Fleet Commander and her Vice Commander.
“Bluff it might be, but if we get the go-ahead from the Grand Admiral, you’ll have literally only standard hours in which to bake the entire system. Who knows what they have hidden on the outer planets, on asteroids, parked in orbit…”
“That can’t be done, unless—”
“That’s right. Even so, the nova front would take hours to get to the outer orbits, which means that you’d have to maintain a picket line until nearly the last minute.”
Silence, deeper than before.
“But no one would ever challenge the Empire for generations…would they?”