“To be honest I don’t know what’s going to happen. The Colonization Board already knows about the Lodaanii, but bureaucracy doesn’t come to conclusions very fast, and this situation isn’t nearly as cut-and-dried as it seems. Toby has lawyers looking into ways around this Colonization Board regulation, and we believe there is hope. Here’s the big thing. We do know for sure even if Corona declares its independence, it won’t make any difference to the Republic. They’ll either evict the whole human populace by force or allow you to stay, regardless of your declaration of independence.”
“In other words we’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t,” George Feldman grumbled.
“I hope not,” Colt responded. “But pulling out of the Republic as a means of getting around the Colonization Board is definitely wasted effort. In my opinion all the fighting that has taken place, the people who’ve lost their lives, the city that was destroyed – none of that was worth the cost, and any further fighting needs to stop – now. That’s what this meeting is all about.”
“I gather you have a plan,” Walker prompted.
“I have the start of one.” Colt looked at each of them. “I think we can easily convince enough of the separatists of the futility of further fighting. The trouble is, the militia is full of mercenaries, and we don’t know who they’re working for. The question is why go to all that expense? Anyone who has that kind of resources …” He paused. “They must have another motive, and I’m betting it’s to get control of the planet before anyone knows they’re being taken over.” He looked at the mayor. “Why else would they have a military governor – commandant – for the province?”
Susan nodded. “It makes sense. They want a force in place when all the fighting was over,” she answered. “Probably to impose martial law.”
“They also want someone in charge locally they can count on to take orders,” Tucker noted. “That’s why they replaced you, mayor.”
“Of course, I was a figurehead anyway. They were bypassing me to issue orders directly to the militia units. I’m sure that meant I would have been replaced sooner or later.”
Diane squirmed. Looking at Colt, she said, “This seems like speculation. Why should we believe you? After all you represent the Crown.”
“Just think about what I’ve said. I know this isn’t comfortable for you. I don’t like it either. But you can’t deny that once the Republic decides what to do about the Lodaanii, whether you claim independence or not, they will do it.”
Diane raised her voice, “They can’t! The law says that if a colony declares independence, the Republic has to honor it.”
“Unfortunately they can. That law you’re talking about has been overridden more than once for the good of the Republic. The Takahara Revolution is an example. In fact, there are articles in the law that specifically gives the government that authority. Our best hope is to put our resources into finding a legal loophole. In the meantime we have to call a complete halt to the fighting.”
“You’ve made your case,” George Feldman responded. “But why are we meeting now?”
“I want you to help me dismantle the militia, starting with Sykesville. Here’s what I have in mind …”
Two hours later the group separated. The counteroffensive had begun.
Chapter 34
The next day the bivouac area at Sykesville looked much the same as it had the night of the caterpillar drop. As they drove up to the gate in the mayor’s official ground car, Colt wondered briefly what had happened to the smelly creatures. The driver held out everyone’s ID cards and said, “Mayor Winsock, Commander Colt, Sergeant Feldman, and Sergeant Hess are here to talk to the commandant. Please inform him that the mayor wants all military presence removed from Sykesville without delay.”
Bending his knees to look at Susan in the front seat, the guard, a civilian militiaman, stammered, “Ma’am, I can’t do that.”
She leaned across the seat and said, “Sure you can, young man. Say, aren’t you Bruce Lidke? I spoke to your wife just two days ago at the farmers’ market. We were both concerned about the fact that the fresh produce is in short supply because the farmers are avoiding town with the militia controlling it. Just pass the message on to the commandant and let us in. Wouldn’t you rather be doing something besides guarding a gate?”
Hesitantly he raised his communicator. “Sergeant Frasier, the mayor is here. She wants to talk to commandant.” He paused. “About pulling the militia out of town.” There was a choked off laugh from the communicator.
Lidke’s uncomfortable expression said it all. “Ma’am, I can let you in but Commandant Gradishar probably won’t see you. You’ll have to go to the assembly tent and wait.” He pointed to the tent that served as a mess hall and briefing room.
“Thank you, Bruce.” The ground car rolled smoothly forward.
As soon as they were inside the tent, Colt unrolled his computer display. He spoke to the AI. “Announce commander’s call starting immediately.” He rolled up the display and stuck it back in his jacket.
“Attention in the area. Attention in the area. All personnel assemble in the mess hall immediately for commander’s call. I say again, all personnel assemble in the mess hall immediately for commander’s call.”
The tent was over half full when Commandant Gradishar stormed in, his face crimson. “What the hell is going on here?” he demanded, looking around the tent.
Colt waved from the briefing stage. “Commandant Gradishar, we were hoping you could make it. Come on over here so I can introduce you around.”
Gradishar stomped his way to the platform. He leapt onto the stage and signaled to a group of militia men wearing guard arm bands. “Who the hell are you, and what are you doing here?” he raged.
While the guards forced their way through the growing crowd, Colt grabbed Gradishar’s hand and started shaking it. Smiling broadly he said in a stage whisper, “This is going out live on the web, so be pleasant.”
“What!” Gradishar exploded. His face rapidly drained of color as he saw his image on the display behind Colt.
Colt indicated the mayor and the other members of his party, and introduced them to Gradishar as if this were a social occasion. When he finished he said, “Why don’t you have a seat, commandant. I have a few words to say to the assembled troops.”
Visibly shaken, Gradishar sat in the chair and stared dumbly at the web feed with the Corona News Central logo in the lower right corner.
Colt stepped to the center front of the platform. “Ladies and gentlemen, if you’ll take a seat, we’ll get started.” The AI faithfully amplified his voice, and the noise level began rapidly dying down. The guards arrived before there was complete quiet. Colt turned away from the pickup and directed them to seats in front. They looked confused, but sat down just as the babble faded away.
Over the next twenty minutes Colt explained the futility of the rebellion, the presence of the mercenaries, and his interpretation of the intent of the people who had hired the mercenaries. When he threw the discussion open to the audience, many of the questions were about the mercenaries. He had Sergeant Hess address most of those. She identified every mercenary she recognized in the tent and finished with, “These are all good men, doing their jobs, but they’re loyal to their employers and not to the rebellion.”
Colt resumed his position at the front of the platform. After several more questions, Colt summarized and said, “The mayor of Sykesville has asked that all military operations in Sykesville and the surrounding province be shut down immediately and that the bivouac area be restored to its owners. You militiamen have an option. You can collect your gear and go home or collect your gear and go with the mercenaries you’ve been introduced to today.”
Again there was a flurry of questions. When they were all answered, Colt came to attention and commanded, “First Sergeant, dismiss the troops.”
The first sergeant, a mercenary, jumped to attention. “Battalion, ‘ten-hut!” He paused as the assembled m
ilitia men and women stood to a quasi-military attention. “Dismissed,” he said. Except for a few stragglers the militia hurried out of the tent, talking excitedly.
Gradishar rose to his feet, his face again bright red. “You can’t do this,” he grated.
Mayor Winsock smiled. “Look around you, colonel,” she replied. “We just did. Now here’s what we want you to do.”
###
A half hour later most of the volunteer militia had already gone home. The team left a dazed Gradishar at the briefing table and headed for town.
Hess looked Colt in the eye. “That was too easy, Commander,” she said. “How did you get away with it?”
Colt chuckled. “Two things. I already knew that the volunteers in the militia were disenchanted. All I had to do was to give them a good excuse to walk. The other is to always keep your opposition off balance. Do what they don’t expect and do it with flair.”
“And it doesn’t hurt to do it with authority, even when you don’t have any,” Hess' jaw dropped. "That's why you're such a wise-ass in a tight situation."
Colt laughed out loud. “It is indeed.”
The mayor’s driver broke in, “I’m not sure what it means, but there’s a military vehicle of some kind following us. It pulled on about three intersections back.” Everyone swiveled in their seats to look behind. A few seconds later he warned, “Another military vehicle just pulled into the intersection ahead, and it’s blocking the street. Shall I try going through someone’s yard?”
Hess responded first, “Don’t bother. They’ll just ram us if we try to get past them. We expected this. Perhaps it’s time to put Commander Colt’s technique to work.”
The driver brought the mayor’s ground car to a stop about five meters from the vehicle in the intersection. Nine men in combat gear jumped out of it and started running toward them, waving blast rifles in their direction. At the same time the vehicle in back pulled in blocking their retreat. The driver started to open his door.
“Don’t!” Colt commanded. The driver froze. Looking up he found himself staring into nine blast rifle muzzles. He swallowed hard.
Colt said quietly, “Everyone be calm. Just sit still and wait. These guys are mercenaries, and they know we’re leading the opposition. All it would take is one suspicious move, and there could be a blood bath.”
The first man reached the driver’s door. He yanked it open, banging it against the stops. He grabbed the driver by the arm and pulled him from the car, sending him sprawling across the pavement. The other mercenaries opened the other doors and reached for the other passengers. Hess’ reaction was immediate and painful. The merc jumped back, holding his forearm. “You broke my arm,” he growled, glaring at her. He started to bring the blast rifle up with his other arm. Hess swung out of the car using the grab handle over the door. One foot connected with the rifle. It clattered harmlessly to the ground. The other foot struck the man in the chin. He lurched backward, fell to the pavement, and lay still. The merc who had opened Colt’s door swung her rifle toward Hess. Colt mumbled, “Dammit,” and jerked the woman’s arm down. “Ah – ah – ah!” he said into her purpling face. “Your buddy got what he deserved. Now, back off. If you want us to get out of the car, let us get out of the car.” She stepped back and pointed her rifle at Colt.
An authoritative voice interrupted, “You heard the man, Swanson, back off. Keep them covered, but let them get out on their own. Just make sure they don’t try any more funny stuff.”
The mercenaries stood the mayor’s party against the outside of the car and searched them one at a time, removing their repeller field units. “No weapons, Lieutenant, and these things are useless against blast rifles.”
“Just out of curiosity, what do you think you’ll gain from this?” Colt asked. “After all, you’re no longer welcome here.”
The lieutenant laughed, “What’s welcome got to do with anything. It’s power that counts, and we have it.”
“Power?” Colt snorted. “By my count there are barely enough mercenaries on the planet to fill a platoon. Together you might be able to hold a town. Individually you can be a major nuisance, but frontier people figure out how to deal with nuisances in a hurry.”
The lieutenant stepped in front of Colt and glared at him. “Just because you were able to talk some bored colonists into going home, doesn’t mean they all will. We still control half the towns and cities on this dirt ball.”
“You’ll probably want to check your facts,” Colt stared back at the man but remained expressionless. “The separatists never controlled half the communities on Corona, and not all the ones they did control were in militia hands.” Colt paused. “But, come on, you haven’t answered my question. What do you expect to gain by holding us at gun point?”
The lieutenant studied Colt for a moment. “The brass was right about you. You are a threat to our operation. To answer your question, we don’t plan to hold you at gun point. We have orders to execute you, and that’s what we’re going to do.” He turned to one of the other mercenaries. “Swanson.”
Hess murmured, “Okay, let’s see how you talk us out of this one.”
Colt smiled faintly but addressed the lieutenant. “You don’t want to do that. You know as well as I do that your company will lose its license if you execute any prisoners, not to mention members of the royal armed forces.”
“How will anyone know?” The lieutenant smirked. “There won’t be anyone left to tell the story. Oh, even if the car’s AI is trying to broadcast this little scenario, its signal is being jammed. Of course, we’ll destroy the AI as part of the mop-up.”
The lieutenant turned to Swanson. “He’s first. Take him away from the vehicles so they don’t get damaged by any blaster leakage.”
Swanson poked Colt with her rifle muzzle and then swung it to point down the road.
Colt looked at Hess and said, “Protect the mayor with your life.”
“Get a move on,” Swanson ordered.
“Why should I hurry? You’re going to shoot me anyway. I’m in no rush.”
She prodded him again. “You want me to do it here?”
Colt started moving slowly. “I suppose you’re right, there’s no point risking a perfectly good Interceptor 4000,” he said, indicating the ground car.
“Stop gabbing and start walking.” Colt complied without enthusiasm.
Passing the blocking vehicle, Colt calculatingly bumped into one of the towing hooks and tripped, sprawling forward onto his face. Swanson prodded him in the back with the rifle. “Get up.”
Colt rolled over sweeping Swanson’s legs out from under her. As she fell, he reached for the rifle and snatched it away. He lunged behind the vehicle as a blaster bolt evaporated the pavement where he had fallen. He immediately heard the sound of a struggle including that of a heavy body colliding violently with the side of a vehicle. Next he heard the lieutenant command, “Drop it, Sergeant. Do it now!”
He took a quick look around the front of the troop carrier, and watched Swanson scrambling to get away. He heard Hess say, “I can’t do that, Lieutenant. You heard my orders.”
Colt jumped in front of the troop carrier and brought the rifle to bear on the lieutenant. “Don’t do it, Lieutenant,” he ordered. “You drop yours.” At that instant he realized that the other mercenaries had scattered. He heard sand scratching the pavement behind him and started to swing around. A sledgehammer blow struck him between the eyes.
###
“He’s coming around.” The voice was weak and fuzzy. He opened his eyes. A swirl of blurred images greeted him. “Gus, can you sit up?” Another voice, this one clearer and louder. Then he became aware of his stomach. “Oh Hemlock,” the first voice said. It was also clearer, but Colt wasn’t listening. He was too busy emptying his stomach on the pavement.
When he had finished retching, the second voice said, “Sorry about that, Gus. We had to use the max setting on our stunners because they were wearing armor.”
Colt turn
ed his head to the side and looked up to see where the voice was coming from. Tucker was bending down to offer him a hand. He continued, “Sorry we were so late. There was another group of mercs guarding the approach and we had to take them out first. We were monitoring the transmissions from the mayor’s car like Sergeant Hess recommended. The satellite relay was a great idea, but by the time we arrived you were in a standoff. Our only choice was to stun all of you.”
Colt’s head was beginning to clear. He looked around at the other marshals loading the mercenaries into vans. “You heard what Jamal said about having orders to execute us?”
“Isn’t that against the mercenary code?” Tucker asked.
“It is, but it’s happened before with these mercenaries.” He nodded at Hess who had already recovered and was walking toward them. “That’s why Nancy is on our side.”
He shook his head to clear it and immediately regretted doing it.
Hess stopped in front of them. “Are you okay Commander?”
“I’m recovering, thanks to you. Setting up monitoring via satellite was a great idea.”
She nodded.
Colt continued, “Owen and I were just discussing the order to execute us. You’re old company was New Castle, right?”
Hess nodded again.
“I know from personal experience that they’re a solid, ethical company. Yet someone in the chain of command said to kill me and the order was passed on to you. I’d be willing to bet that the orders were issued by someone outside the company. And, of course, there are always jerks like Jamal who are willing to follow orders.”
He looked at Tucker. “Owen, I think I know who’s issuing these orders, and I’m going to find out for sure.”
Interlude
“The first thing I want to know is, are you’re working on your own or for someone else?” Quan was standing stiffly in front of McKillip’s desk when she asked the question. He had tried to avoid this confrontation, but it had been inevitable. Now he had to tell just enough truth to keep from losing his grip on McKillip, tenuous as it had become. He forced himself to relax.
Peacemaker: The Corona Rebellion 2564 AD Page 29