I sipped at my drink again, a hard liqueur served neat. Smoke and music filled my senses as I stared at the blinking message on my Neocom for the third time.

I wasn’t a fan of back room politics, and always suspicious of offers of help. Too many times I had been betrayed, nearly losing my ship, or worse. Other pilots I had known weren’t as fortunate when making the same mistake.

The cursor continued to pulse, taunting me, mocking my inaction. I finished my drink, reading the transmission once more.

SENDER: UNKNOWN
TITLE: Your CSM 7 Campaign

Colonel Wieler,

I represent a significant group of voters, 1500+, that are not satisfied with the “favoured” candidates in the upcoming Council election. We believe, as do many others, that politicians with a slanted agenda will not give due consideration to all aspects of the universe fairly, resulting in further imbalances we all will suffer through.

Your military record is exemplary. Your campaign has been upright and straightforward. Your approach has been firm, yet honest. Should you reply, you will have our votes.

I thought about the message once again. There was always an angle, always an agenda. Most likely, this group would reveal themselves in the future, claiming that my seat on the Council was their doing, should that eventuality arise. At that juncture, they would most likely demand special considerations, favours for their efforts in securing my elected seat. They would be sorely disappointed in that regard.

On the other hand, the offer might be genuine. It was doubtful, but there were always politically motivated groups that simply wanted the best for all. Could this be the case? Slim.

Still, if the offer was genuine, not responding was throwing away votes I sorely needed. My passive campaign strategy hadn’t been working so well. I had been relying on word of mouth, running a clean campaign free of scandal and smear against other candidates. I had stayed out of the spotlight for a change. My concern was that my passiveness would be presumed as weakness, and that I would lose potential votes from those thinking I was all bark and no bite. They would also be sorely disappointed in that regard should I secure a Council seat – my bite had always been worse than my bark, and I barked a lot.

I breathed deeply, and replied.

Thank you for your consideration. The cynical side of me wonders what your agenda is, but it would be foolish of me to refuse your offer. However, I am compelled to reiterate my campaign position to you, that we are clear on where I stand in this matter.

My mandate is twofold:

1. My role on the Council would be to bring the voices of the Capsuleers to the Council, then to CCP, and vice versa. Every voice deserves to be heard, as every pilot influences our galaxy. Consistent communication is essential, and a two way task.
2. My second mandate, of equal importance, is to ensure that every idea is given due consideration; that every thought put forward is critiqued, pulled apart in every way possible, attacked from all sides, in order to ensure that only the best solutions are put forward. Hopefully, this steadfast approach will ensure a brighter future for all of us.

Should I receive your votes, I will be held to no agenda. I will not be indentured to you. I will not be a pawn.

I welcome your support should you understand my cautious nature, as well as my terms in this regard.

Roc

There it was. I breathed a sigh of relief. Should the offer prove genuine, I had made myself clear, and that sat well with my conscience. Should the offer be an attempt to discredit me in some way, I had maintained my integrity, been above board on my intentions, and again, my conscience was clean.

I had everything to gain, and nothing to lose.

Ah, politics, the fun you bring.