A roiling throng had assembled in Conquest Square, the battleground where the Mulluran homeworld was united and the Empire begun nearly 3,000 years earlier, to listen to a much-awaited speech from their new leader. General A'dal Francona had managed to triumph in the power struggles that had ensued after the collapse of the Imperial government.
A short-statured man clad in a hideously gaudy uniform emerged from the palace onto the balcony. The Empire is demoralized, he thought. We need grandeur and spectacle to help us re-establish a healthy attitude! Francona had been reviewing an ancient Earth recording entitled 'Triumph of the Will.' The humans had some good ideas...a shame they became so decadent...
As soon as Francona appeared, the crowd broke into a thunderous roar! Francona raised his hands to appeal for silence. Several people in the crowd bore placards denouncing the regime. These people were quietly removed by plainclothes secret policemen, and were never seen again...
The crowd quieted. And Francona began.
"Brave people of Mullura! You who have endured so much, have seen your nation decline from the heights to which it had attained! Today is the day we reclaim our rightful destiny!"
The cheering began again. With a simple hand gesture, Francona stilled the crowd.
"The decrepit and moribund regime which formerly held sway over our beautiful Empire is no more. I bring you a new day--a day in which every Mulluran shall reckon himself a master over all other races! When the treachery of the G'Kar--barbarians whose culture would not exist were it not for our guidance--is repaid fifty-fold! When our humiliation at the hands of the Federation is avenged!
"The weak peoples of the Federation would have you believe that nations are formed by laws and treaties, and that there can be mutual respect between the races of the galaxy. It was one of their own--a human named Otto von Bismarck--who said that nations are not forged by treaties, but by blood and iron!
"That the Federation has lost sight of this ancient wisdom is a sign that they, too, are decadent. As are the Klingons, who have openly cooperated with them, and the Romulans, who seek detente with the Federation. Klingons and Romulans even now serve in the Federation's ranks!
"We, however, are not weak. We are Mullura--pure, untainted by the corrupting influences of the galaxy. For millenia we have been protected by the Fortress of Heaven. But now the Federation is beginning to penetrate that fortress. Will we stand for this?"
"NO!!!!!!!!" thousands of voices replied in unison.
"Will we allow ourselves to be similarly corrupted, that we may become mongrels like any other Federation race?"
"NO!!!!!!!!"
"Now is the time to throw the Federation's words back into its face. Blood and Iron is our rallying cry! We shall avenge ourselves upon the G'Kar wherever they may be found. And we shall prepare for a great and bloody struggle against the Federation, against the Klingons, against the Romulans, against the Borg--against the Q Continuum if necessary--to establish our true destiny!" The cheering of the audience could be heard twenty ridings away. Francona knew that the military resources of the Mullurans would just barely secure its borders at the moment--but the people didn't know it. Couldn't be allowed to know it. As long as they had confidence, it would happen. Let doubt enter for one moment...
A chant began to emerge from the crowd. "Blood and Iron! Blood and Iron! Blood and Iron!" Francona found himself energized by the adoring mob.
"We must cleanse ourselves of all corrupting influences if we are to take our rightful place as masters of this galaxy! There is nothing written, nothing produced outside of the Empire that any true Mulluran needs. We urinate upon the words of La'Kon, of Surak, of Kahless, of Mohammed and Buddha and Christ! They have no meaning for us, the People of Blood and Iron!"
"Blood and Iron! Blood and Iron! Blood and Iron!" came the echoing reply.
"I bid you therefore to plant your fields, and man your factories, and every able body among you to enroll for military service when the call comes! Our humiliation will end--and our history shall truly begin!"
"Blood and Iron! Blood and Iron! Blood and Iron!"
A huge parade, styled after those of Earth's Nazi Germany and Soviet Union of centuries ago (and of the Roman Empire many centuries before that), proceeded down the Avenue of the Emperors. Thousands upon thousands of troops arrayed in gleaming helmets and breastplates and carrying disruptor rifles, phalanx upon phalanx of tanks, with flight upon flight of fighters in the skies overhead. The procession was costing the treasury a fortune.
As Francona looked upon the admiring crowds, ready to kill and to die in his name--and that of the Empire--he smiled. It was worth every ducat....
Kitty turned off the recording in disgust. "That is without a doubt the most sickening thing I've ever seen," she said. News recordings of riots in the Imperial City and the burning of libraries and G'Kar temples replaced the propaganda film.
She examined a PADD. "Reports from our distant monitoring stations indicate that their industrial capacity has increased eightfold since this recording was made two months ago. Non-Mullurans are attempting to escape the Empire but are being detained by the Mulluran Order Police." She looked squarely at Tarik. "I think now's a good time to start using those irregulars of yours." The G'Kar volunteer legions had been training at a secret base on the asteroid Thermopylae for several months, awaiting a slow influx of equipment purchased by the Federation from third parties.
"I'll need authorization to set up a more efficient turnkey operation to handle the logistics," Tarik said. "It's going to take a lot more than a brigade to hold back that onslaught once it starts. We'd better start arming this sector to the teeth!"
"Already in the pipeline, Colonel. And by all means, if you can set up a good turnkey to fund the volunteers, it's completely at your discretion."
Tarik smiled. He had just the idea. But inside he was more afraid than he'd ever been in his life, after seeing the recording from Mullura's Imperial City.
Eugene Loomis was beginning to close up his shop after another very profitable day of business. Amalgamated Dilithium had just raised its exchange rate for company scrip to 7:1 against the Federation standard credit from 5:1. Loomis, knowing just how rough the miners had it most of the time, had never gone above 4:1...and still made a profit. Rumor of a strike was building, and he was prepared to extend the miners credit. It would hurt his profit margin short-term, but build a long-term customer base. His popularity with the miners had also served to keep Wayne Balmer at bay, and that had been favor well worth repaying at any price. Miners are not generally known for being slight-built people, and many of them were Muscle Beach members...
Another ally of his walked casually into the store. Tarik was impressed by the progress Loomis was making at the gym. He was a long way from being ready for the bodybuilding circuit, but equally far from where he was. Loomis walked more confidently and seemed to have more life in him, too. The past few weeks he had noticed Loomis and Lera spending more time together too.
"Good afternoon, Eugene. How are you doing?"
"Fantastic, Colonel!"
"You can call me Tarik. You're a civilian; rank is optional. I'm glad to hear you're doing well. I have a small but potentially very lucrative business proposition for you..."