"Citizen Kioren, report." Potokos' voice was crisp, authoritative, as befitted the ruler of Tivor. Potokos represented the voice of the people of Tivor. In an ideal world he would be, but Tivor was far from ideal. Potokos was the ruler, despot, tyrant, whatever terminology used it was the same. Potokos held the power.
Kioren was short and wide. On a planet with constant food shortages, he still managed to be fat. He stood and puffed himself up importantly. "Food production on the farms is up thirty seven percent from last winter."
"Not difficult, since food production is near zero during the winter," Shaydoc, another one of the Inner Congress, put in.
"We have farms in the neotropical regions of the continent," Kioren said. "Where do you think the fruit you enjoyed this morning was grown? The farms are producing at capacity."
"Then you need to increase capacity," Shaydoc said. "Winter is barely begun and already the food requisitions for the military are being denied."
"The farms are near capacity for workers," Kioren said. "Thanks mostly to the new law enforcement policies." He nodded at Kuran.
Potokos cleared his throat. All debate immediately ceased. The members of the Inner Congress, all seven of them, looked to him.
"Food production must be raised," Potokos said. "Before more of our people starve. We must protect the welfare of our people."
"I can't control the weather," Kioren blustered. "Three years of drought during the spring followed by late summer storms have wreaked havoc with the crops. And there have been raids from the fugitives living in the mountains."
Kuran waited for something terrible to happen to Kioren. Potokos would not admit to the existence of the people living in the mountains though it was common knowledge they were there.
Potokos tightened his lips. "Citizen Kioren," he said in his clipped voice. "There are no people in the mountains. Only the citizens of Tivor. Do you understand me?"
"Deny it all you want," Kioren said. "It won't change facts. Their numbers have been growing. We've had escapes from the farms. They go to the mountains."
Esua, the Minister of Planetary Relations, raised his hand. "Please, Citizen Kioren," he said in a calming voice, "I do not see the relevance to our current crisis. Can we produce enough food to sustain our citizens?"
Potokos shot an irritated look at Esua. He did not like having his power challenged, in any way.
Kioren shook his head, making his jowls wobble. "We have barely enough to last us until the next harvest. If I were given authorization," he looked to Potokos, "and more workers, I could convert land in the southern regions to crop fields. The soils are poor, but the climate is more moderate."
"And it won't solve our problems," Shaydoc pointed out. "The land is poor and will only produce for a few short years. And then what? You clear more land? And depopulate the cities and factories to get workers."
"What of the rebellion?" Atera asked. He was slender, with brown hair and brown eyes. He was in charge of transportation networks on Tivor.
"What of it?" Shaydoc bristled. "We hunt down one nest and ten more pop up. The real source is within Milaga itself." He shot an accusing look at Kuran. "If the police were doing their job, we wouldn't have these problems."
"We are closing in on the leaders of the resistance," Kuran said smoothly. "Our raid last week netted several of their key people."
"And what of the Patrol spy?" Shaydoc demanded.
"She has been dealt with," Kuran answered.
"This accomplishes nothing," Potokos announced. "We must find a way to crush the resistance once and for all. We cannot do that without adequate food for our troops. Suggestions?" He raised his gaze to the light fixture overhead. If Potokos did not see you speak, you would remain anonymous.
The room was silent for a long moment.
"We need outside assistance," Zotan, Minister of Information, finally said. "The Patrol has sent an Admiral and one of their ships—"
"To spy on us!" Shaydoc interjected.
"To inspect their base," Kuran said. "He won't find anything amiss. He won't see anything."
"He has asked to meet with the Inner Congress," Esua said.
"What help will the Empire offer us? Where were they six years ago? Why are they here now?" That came from Hydos, Minister of Manufacturing and Trade. "They buy our goods, at cut prices, then tell us they want more and they want them cheaper or they will cut off all trade. I say we tell the Patrol and the Empire we don't want their trade. I say we throw them off our world."
"And what?" Zotan asked. "We can't survive without their support."
"We won't get their technology," Hydos argued. "But we don't need their technology or their condescending attitudes."
"But we are part of the Empire," Esua said. "We have sworn allegiance to the Emperor."
"Not me," Hydos said. "They use us, and abuse us, and give nothing of value in return. Our equipment they so graciously agreed to sell us is twenty years out of date. Wouldn't you agree, Zotan? How current are your computers?"
Zotan squirmed, put on the spot.
"Years out of date," Hydos continued. "As is all of our manufacturing equipment."
"And you argue that we make it better by throwing the Empire out? How will that help?" Atera asked. "We need what they give us."
"Scraps," Hydos answered hotly. "Old equipment that otherwise would be junked. And we pay for each and every piece of it as if it were valuable. Because they give us no other choice."
"What you say sounds very close to treason," Shaydoc said, eyes narrowing.
"Treason to an Emperor we have never seen, who only wants what he can take from us," Hydos said. "Not to our revered leader or to Tivor."
"What other option is there?" Zotan asked.
"The Federation," Hydos said quietly, as if afraid to say it loud enough that someone outside the room might hear.
The members of the Inner Congress looked to Kuran. Potokos lowered his gaze from the ceiling overhead. They all waited.
Kuran picked up a sheaf of paper, the proposed agreement with the Federation. He placed it in the center of the table.
"I read through what they proposed. The Federation wishes to reach an agreement with us. They will offer help with our agriculture and manufacturing, in the guise of experts sent to evaluate our methods. They offer money and equipment, as well. Whatever we need. In return, they ask two things. First, we must send a certain number of our citizens to serve in their military."
"That is not a problem," Shaydoc said. "I have troops that need training. Let them shoulder the cost."
"True," Kuran agreed, "military service is no hardship. The second requirement is the problem. They wish us to completely change our form of government. They would give us five years to implement the changes, but basically, citizens, they would remove us from power. They would destroy our way of life."
The others sat silent as the implications became clear.
"Esua will continue to negotiate, with my help, of course," Kuran said. "But their terms are unacceptable and I do not believe they will compromise more than they already have."
"Then what choice do we have? Why negotiate with them at all?" Kioren asked, bewildered.
"We are in a position of great power," Kuran said. "I've been doing a bit of research. With Zotan's help."
Zotan nodded and tried to look as if he knew what Kuran was talking about.
"If I may impose on your time just a few moments longer?" Kuran asked politely.
"Show us," Potokos ordered.
Kuran tapped the table, opening the projector controls. He touched the appropriate buttons. A glowing map of the Empire spread over the table. The stars burned red.
"The Empire, citizens," Kuran said. "As it was five years ago. As you can see, Tivor is in a relatively isolated area. The Empire has no reason to care what happens to us."
"As we all know too well," Hydos said impatiently.
Kuran tapped the controls again. Stars around the edges of the Empire changed to an angry orange. "The Fringe worlds," Kuran identified them. "And here," he tapped again. Four stars lit up blue. "The Federation."
"What is your point?" Hydos pressed.
"That was five years ago," Kuran said. He touched the controls once more.
Orange stars flickered and changed to blue. Red stars began to change. The blue lights spread through the edges of the Empire. One arm reached around Tivor, past them and quite deep into Imperial space. The red stars near the blue arm flickered.
"As you can see, citizens of Tivor," Kuran said, "we are no longer unimportant. If the Empire is to hold these worlds, they must hold Tivor." He spread his hand through the map.
"Ah," Shaydoc grinned. "If we threaten to join the Federation, they will have to give us whatever we ask for to keep us. Or risk losing thirty systems beyond us."
"Precisely," Kuran said. "We hold a position of power. I suggest we continue to negotiate with the Federation. And hold that threat over the Patrol Admiral when he comes begging for our aid."
"Devious," Zotan commented.
Hydos frowned, tugging his lip. "What's to stop the Patrol from taking over completely?"
"The Patrol is stretched too thin," Kuran said. "Zotan shared information with me that a full Fleet has defected to the Federation. The Patrol cannot risk alienating its own people. They do not have the troops, unless they pull them from somewhere else. And that, citizens, they will not do. The Empire is threatened. They will give us whatever we ask in return for our promise to support them."
"And what will that mean?" Hydos asked.
"That we continue to allow their ships to land here," Kuran said. "Nothing more than we have already granted them."
"They will pay us well for the privilege." Potokos' smile was cold, his thin lips disappearing entirely against his teeth. "I approve. Schedule a meeting with this Admiral for two days from now. I wish only Esua and Kuran to be in attendance at the meeting."
"Yes, Citizen Prime," they murmured as they bowed their heads to Potokos.
Kuran was not the only one to note the offended looks some of them gave Potokos. He met Shaydoc's eyes across the table and nodded. The others would be watched, closely. Atera in particular. He'd been spotted in areas where he had no business being.