"Pride," Micah says, a little flatly, "and politics, and lack of any other easy target. There aren't a ton of planets in cul-de-sacs, and one wormhole blockade is resource-heavy enough. It's less expensive for them to keep pouring money into this occupation than it would be for them to pull out, deal with the political fallout -- and the longer this goes on, the less political face they're going to be able to save after the fact -- and then start again someplace else. Resources aren't even the biggest issue, when you get down to it. The Cetagandan Empire has those in spades. It's politics."
They glance around again and shift closer to Symmetra. It's not as though Micah's sympathies are a secret here, and they've made it clear they're working more or less under duress, but best not to start too much unnecessary shit in the lab they'll be stuck working in for the foreseeable future.
"Think about it, Symmetra. Barrayar makes for such a politically -- and militarily -- appealing target. Relatively small population, almost no modern technology to speak of, certainly no modern warfare they can effectively utilize, isolated from any other planet by five wormhole jumps, and they've barely been around the Nexus long enough for anyone to care what happens to them, not enough to get in the Cetagandans' way, because no one wants to get in the Cetagandans' way. So who's to care if they annex a bunch of backwater barbarians who wouldn't know the business end of a nerve disrupter if you shoved it under their nose?"
Oh, is that bitterness creeping into Micah's tone? They bite it down, chewing on their lower lip.
"So they get here, ready offering the courtesy of a surrender but fully ready to quash the population into submission, because they're expecting a war -- no one sends warships on a purely diplomatic mission, Symmetra. Only they get far more of a fight than they bargained for. But how long could it take, right? How long to suppress and conquer a planet with a population of less than a billion people with nothing but swords and horses? And now they've been here ten years -- and if they pull out now? Concede defeat to the ass-backwards hicks they were so confident they could own? What does that make them look like?" Micah shakes their head, looking down at their hands. "It'd make them look weak. It would be politically and militarily mortifying, and if they fail, they'll suffer diplomatic consequences, because this planet has Beta Colony's official support, and Beta Colony is a technological empire. Everyone does business with us. Our currency is galactic standard. And if the Cetagandans suffer those diplomatic consequences, how do you think that'll affect their politics, their balance of power? It'll mess with trade agreements. Other planetary governments will push back harder against Cetagandan interests when they don't line up with their own. Cetaganda has eight planets, sure, but they're spread out across the Nexus. If they look weak diplomatically and politically, then they are weak. And Cetaganda has pissed a lot of people off over the years."
They shake their head again, spreading their hands, and look back up at Symmetra. "So pride, political and cultural, keeps them here. So all this war, all this killing, is utterly senseless."
SORRY SYMMETRA MICAH REALLY LIKES TO TALK
They glance around again and shift closer to Symmetra. It's not as though Micah's sympathies are a secret here, and they've made it clear they're working more or less under duress, but best not to start too much unnecessary shit in the lab they'll be stuck working in for the foreseeable future.
"Think about it, Symmetra. Barrayar makes for such a politically -- and militarily -- appealing target. Relatively small population, almost no modern technology to speak of, certainly no modern warfare they can effectively utilize, isolated from any other planet by five wormhole jumps, and they've barely been around the Nexus long enough for anyone to care what happens to them, not enough to get in the Cetagandans' way, because no one wants to get in the Cetagandans' way. So who's to care if they annex a bunch of backwater barbarians who wouldn't know the business end of a nerve disrupter if you shoved it under their nose?"
Oh, is that bitterness creeping into Micah's tone? They bite it down, chewing on their lower lip.
"So they get here, ready offering the courtesy of a surrender but fully ready to quash the population into submission, because they're expecting a war -- no one sends warships on a purely diplomatic mission, Symmetra. Only they get far more of a fight than they bargained for. But how long could it take, right? How long to suppress and conquer a planet with a population of less than a billion people with nothing but swords and horses? And now they've been here ten years -- and if they pull out now? Concede defeat to the ass-backwards hicks they were so confident they could own? What does that make them look like?" Micah shakes their head, looking down at their hands. "It'd make them look weak. It would be politically and militarily mortifying, and if they fail, they'll suffer diplomatic consequences, because this planet has Beta Colony's official support, and Beta Colony is a technological empire. Everyone does business with us. Our currency is galactic standard. And if the Cetagandans suffer those diplomatic consequences, how do you think that'll affect their politics, their balance of power? It'll mess with trade agreements. Other planetary governments will push back harder against Cetagandan interests when they don't line up with their own. Cetaganda has eight planets, sure, but they're spread out across the Nexus. If they look weak diplomatically and politically, then they are weak. And Cetaganda has pissed a lot of people off over the years."
They shake their head again, spreading their hands, and look back up at Symmetra. "So pride, political and cultural, keeps them here. So all this war, all this killing, is utterly senseless."