Prior Knowledge
If I knew then what I know now, would I do it again? It was hard, certainly, but it was never going to be all wine and roses was it?
I fought to survive for several months after my separation from the Liberator, in conditions that made Cygnus Alpha look like a school outing. I had no idea how hard life could be. I was so naive, so idealistic, even after my mind wipe broke down. I still truly believed the people wanted choice. Those months of desperation hardened more than just my looks. The people I was surrounded by had no time for the intricacies of Federation politics. They lived or they died. The choice was that simple. I wanted people to understand that they were being manipulated and controlled. These people weren't, and would have been given anything to have someone look after them. They had enough to worry about already without being asked to revolt against their leaders: Where was their next meal coming from? Would they be murdered for their clothes? It had never been like that on Earth, safe and sanitary, ordered and orderly. The hard truth I learned is that the vast majority of the population actually don't care who is controlling them, as long as they are not the ones making the decisions. They like knowing that everything will be the same tomorrow as it is today. It is comforting and easy. I could no more ask the general populace to rise in revolt, than I could ask the galaxy to stop revolving.
And so I came to understand the Federation would have to be fought quietly. It would have to be controlled, before it could be changed. The process would require corruption, bribery, betrayal.
After all these years, we had reversed our roles. I had become the manipulator of the powerful and wealthy, he had become the revolutionary, albeit a cynical one, and I know from personal experience that revolutionaries are expendable. There will always be another one along the next day.
Would I do it again, knowing what I know now? Absolutely. Unlike mine, their deaths served a purpose. They have finally become what I sought to be all along, martyrs to the cause, their names synonymous with rallying cries across the worlds. Tarrant, Dayna and Soolin, I never knew, but Vila and Avon, I carry with me every day. Long separation made their deaths easier to bear, but still not entirely… palatable.
I never did like him, but I never particularly disliked him either. I told Deva that nobody's indispensable, and I meant it. Did it hurt, setting them up like that when I knew they would die? Yes, but this is a war. And in war, you do what you have to, to win.
If I knew then what I know now, would I do it again? It was hard, certainly, but it was never going to be all wine and roses was it?
I fought to survive for several months after my separation from the Liberator, in conditions that made Cygnus Alpha look like a school outing. I had no idea how hard life could be. I was so naive, so idealistic, even after my mind wipe broke down. I still truly believed the people wanted choice. Those months of desperation hardened more than just my looks. The people I was surrounded by had no time for the intricacies of Federation politics. They lived or they died. The choice was that simple. I wanted people to understand that they were being manipulated and controlled. These people weren't, and would have been given anything to have someone look after them. They had enough to worry about already without being asked to revolt against their leaders: Where was their next meal coming from? Would they be murdered for their clothes? It had never been like that on Earth, safe and sanitary, ordered and orderly. The hard truth I learned is that the vast majority of the population actually don't care who is controlling them, as long as they are not the ones making the decisions. They like knowing that everything will be the same tomorrow as it is today. It is comforting and easy. I could no more ask the general populace to rise in revolt, than I could ask the galaxy to stop revolving.
And so I came to understand the Federation would have to be fought quietly. It would have to be controlled, before it could be changed. The process would require corruption, bribery, betrayal.
After all these years, we had reversed our roles. I had become the manipulator of the powerful and wealthy, he had become the revolutionary, albeit a cynical one, and I know from personal experience that revolutionaries are expendable. There will always be another one along the next day.
Would I do it again, knowing what I know now? Absolutely. Unlike mine, their deaths served a purpose. They have finally become what I sought to be all along, martyrs to the cause, their names synonymous with rallying cries across the worlds. Tarrant, Dayna and Soolin, I never knew, but Vila and Avon, I carry with me every day. Long separation made their deaths easier to bear, but still not entirely… palatable.
I never did like him, but I never particularly disliked him either. I told Deva that nobody's indispensable, and I meant it. Did it hurt, setting them up like that when I knew they would die? Yes, but this is a war. And in war, you do what you have to, to win.