Martial Law 1: Patriotic Treason

by Christopher Nuttall

  This should not have been surprising. Even during the first expansion into space, there were groups that sought to set up their own colonies and hide from the remainder of humanity. Some of them were religious communities intending to remain apart from infidels – see the Mormon Asteroid Colony, which became New Salt Lake City, for details – while others belonged to weirder fringe groups, including rogue criminal gangs and terrorists. The invention of the jump drive and the first expansion into interstellar space only strengthened this trend. As Earth became increasingly inhospitable to freethinkers and non-conformists, the vast reaches of space beckoned and the emigration began. Largely unknown to Earth – still dominated by nationalist governments at the time – thousands upon thousands of unregistered citizens were moving outside their control.

  Some of these groups – the Mormons, in particular – founded planetary settlements, with or without the consent of the UN. Others found isolated stars without habitable planets and used their dead worlds as a base, fairly confident that the UN would not waste time trying to examine the systems thoroughly enough to locate the hidden colonies. The official wave of expansion pushed a more secretive wave of expansion in front of it, creating hidden populations with no reason to love the UN. Many of them, therefore, turned to supporting the UN’s enemies. Only the secrecy that is an inherent requirement for any black colony prevented the creation of a major threat to the UN.

  The UNPF, therefore, found itself tasked with charting and patrolling the Beyond – as it came to be called. It forced them to divert desperately needed ships on courses that would keep them out of contact for months, perhaps even years. It was not surprising, therefore, that a few ships chose to rebel, or even died out among the stars, their passing unmarked by the UN until years later.

  The enemy could be anywhere.

  Part III: First Lieutenant

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  The First Lieutenant is one of the most important officers on a starship and stands between the Captain and his subordinates. The First Lieutenant is expected to handle personnel issues, keep the starship in working order, oversee maintenance and generally take as much of the weight off the Captain’s shoulders as possible. While there are Captains who take a far more hands on attitude to their commands than the above may suggest, the Captain should be able to rely on his First Lieutenant completely. A disloyal First Lieutenant can tear a ship apart.

  -Thomas Anderson. An Unbiased Look at the UNPF. Baen Historical Press, 2500.

  “She doesn’t look any different,” I said. I couldn’t keep the wonder out of my voice. “She looks as beautiful as ever.”

  “She sure does,” the Pilot agreed. He was the same Pilot who had served on the Jacques Delors for my first cruise, but that wasn't uncommon. Pilots needed to be very familiar with their starships and were rarely transferred unless there was a desperate need for their services elsewhere. Even so, a Pilot who was a rated expert with one starship might be no more than a more standard helmsman in another. “You really missed yourself with the engagement against the pirates at Robinson’s World.”

  He grinned as the shuttle started to glide down towards the shuttlebay. “Now that was some fancy flying, sir,” he added. “The Captain was delighted with us all.”

  I fought down a tinge of envy. It was much easier to hate pirates than innocents caught up in the midst of a ground war, when the UN had invaded their planet. Some pirates were raiders trying to take out as much of our shipping as possible. Others, the nastier kind, were complete sociopath-type people. They wanted to loot transports and kill or enslave as many people as possible. It seemed impossible that they would survive for long, but there was a thriving black market in starship components and there were certainly plenty of recruits. The people trying to flee the conscription program had every incentive to sign up with the pirates.

  “Nice and easy,” the Pilot said, as the shuttle drifted neatly into the docking bay. There was a faint thud as the craft settled to the hard metal deck. An instant later, the doors started to slide closed as the crew started to pump in the atmosphere. The entire process had taken place in a vacuum. The Pilot saw my puzzlement and hastened to explain. “The Captain decided that we should practice operations in vacuum, so the bay force field was deactivated.”

  “I see,” I said. Despite everything, I still felt eager to set foot back where I belonged. “When can I leave the shuttle?”

  A green light flickered on over the airlock. “Now,” the Pilot said. “I’ll have a crewman take your bags to your quarters.”

  Every starship smells different, but smelling the Jacques Delors was like returning home. There was a faint hint of oil and machinery, the aroma of two hundred men and women living far too close together…and I loved it. The shuttlebay, I was relieved to see, was still neat and tidy. Our second shuttle still sat on the other side of the bay, but now it was joined by a colourful Marine Landing Craft, its blocky shape covered with a painting of a shark’s jaw. I wondered, for a moment, why we had such a craft, before remembering what had happened on Terra Nova. The Captain had to be feeling a little paranoid. The Marines used to claim that they could be in their landing craft and on the surface within ten minutes of the call…and we might need them. The Quick Reaction Force on Heinlein hadn’t moved very quickly at all.

  “Welcome back, sir,” a crewman said. He wasn't familiar to me, but crewmen transferred frequently. A crewman generally served two-to-five year terms in the UNPF, with a guaranteed settlement right for a new colony as a reward. It was very rare for a crewman to make the jump to commissioned officer status, although it did happen on occasion. “The Senior Chief will be right with you.”

  “Thank you,” I said, gravely. I caught myself straightening my uniform before remembering that the Senior Chief wouldn’t be impressed by my dress blues. The Captain, on the other hand, might understand when I presented myself in my finery. The Great God Tradition dictated, as always, how we should act. “I’ll wait for him here.”

  The Senior Chief looked older than I remembered, but his face was still merry and he winked at me as soon as he saw me. I held out my hand and then found myself giving him a bear hug. He hugged me back, hard enough to hurt, and then insisted on taking my bag, passing it to the crewman.

  “It’s good to see you again, son,” he said, seriously. “I told you that you’d go far.”

  “You did,” I agreed. I didn’t want to have any serious conversations in front of a crewman I didn’t know. “What’s been happening on the ship?”

  “Only a few patrols and some excitement when pirates decided to attack a colony world and its settlements,” the Senior Chief said. He steered me towards the corridor and I allowed him to lead me up towards Officer Country. “I hear that you’ve been making quite a name for yourself.”

  I frowned. What was he referring to? “I like to think so,” I said, carefully. “Chief…what happened to Lieutenant Hatchet?”

  “She was well over five years in grade,” the Senior Chief reminded me. I winced. I could pretty much fill in the rest myself. “Eventually the Captain and the Political Officer ran out of delaying tactics and the beauecrats reassigned her to a research station orbiting Titan or somewhere. One of the many places where they send their failures, son, so bear that in mind. I think she applied to serve on a freighter afterwards and was snapped up by one of their Captains.”

  “Shit,” I said, with feeling. Part of me – the part that looked forward to being First Lieutenant – was glad she’d gone. The remainder wished her well. She had been a role model for me during my first cruise and I had missed her on the Devastator. “And the others?”

  “Half of the Ensigns left, as you know,” the Senior Chief said. “The Pilot, Engineer, Doctor and Marine Sergeant are still the same. The Engineer has been getting crankier recently because he believes that we’ve been cheated on priority for new components. He might even be right. Treat him with some care.”

  “I will,” I promised. “And
the Captain?”

  The Senior Chief caught my arm. “Holding on,” he said, softly. I remembered what he’d told me two years ago and winced. “Be careful with him and don’t try to stab him in the back. I won’t stand for it.”

  “Me neither,” I promised him. We had reached Officer Country, passing the two Marines on guard. On some starships, their presence was a vital necessity, but on Captain Harriman’s ship, it was merely a waste of resources. The senior officers weren't at war with the lower decks. We pushed the door buzzer and, after a moment, hatch hissed open. “I’ll chat to you later.”

  Captain Harriman looked older, somehow, than he had when we’d first met. His face was as mature as ever – the regeneration therapies, only available to people with extremely good connections, had done a good job – but there were new lines embedded within his skin. Somehow, his hair gave the impression of turning grey, even though it seemed perfectly black. He looked up as I entered and I was shocked when I saw his eyes. They were old and very tired. The pressures of his role were bearing down on him.

  “Lieutenant John Walker reporting for duty, sir,” I said. I had straightened to attention automatically. Lieutenant Hatchet had hammered that into my head during the first month on the vessel. Now I pulled a perfect salute, more out of respect for him personally than the rank. I would have died for him.

  “Welcome onboard,” the Captain said. His voice, too, was tired. He sounded like a man on the verge of death somehow, even though there was some of the old strength there. I wished, suddenly, that I were Lieutenant Hatchet. She would have known what to do. I felt as if I were nothing, but a helpless observer. “I trust that you had a pleasant week at Luna City, John?”

  I flushed, slightly. I’d spent the week making contacts with people I’d known and trying to sound them out about their feelings for the regime. It hadn’t been easy and I was grimly aware that if someone talked to the wrong person, or reported me to the security forces, I was dead. The planning hadn’t even reached the operational stages yet and wouldn’t realistically, for several years. The best we could do was plan and try to position ourselves for action in the future.

  “Yes, sir,” I said. I had never lied to the Captain before, but there was little choice. “I spent most of it in the Video Lounge and then Madame Olga’s Place.”

  The Captain smiled faintly. “The Video Lounge?” He asked, dryly. “Why there?”

  “I like to play computer games,” I admitted. It was hard telling a lie to him, but I had used to visit back when I’d been in the Academy. There were aspects of Academy training that could be applied to computer games, although some of them were puzzles or strange adventures, rather than action and adventure. There was one featuring a small blue mutant hedgehog I’d used to love. “It’s not something you can do on a starship.”

  “Against regulations,” the Captain agreed. He grinned suddenly, seeming years younger for a long heartbreaking moment. “And is Madame Olga the same as ever?”

  “Ah…I wasn't too concerned with her,” I said, frantically. Madame Olga ran one of the more upscale brothels in Luna City and had been around as long as anyone could remember. “I just wanted a girl and…”

  I trailed off. The Captain seemed to recognise my embarrassment. “I used to know her when I was younger,” he admitted. “She was quite a beauty in her day.”

  “Yes, sir,” I agreed. I had the vague feeling that I was being teased. The imagination couldn’t cope with the idea of the Captain as a young man. It seemed more likely that he had sprung into existence on the bridge. “Some of her girls were almost beauties…”

  The Captain laughed at my discomfort. “They always were,” he said. “However” – he shook his head slowly – “we have other matters to talk about, even though it would be nicer to talk about girls. Do you understand that you will be First Lieutenant on this vessel?”

  He paused. “At ease, by the way,” he added. “You’re a Lieutenant now. You’re allowed to relax slightly in the presence of your Captain.”

  “I understood that to be the case,” I said. “I was sorry to hear that Lieutenant Hatchet had left this ship.”

  “Command has seen fit to grace me with several green Ensigns and Lieutenants again,” the Captain said, tiredly. “I’m relieved to see you – I approved your transfer despite some pressure from other quarters – because you were already familiar with Lieutenant Hatchet’s methods for breaking in new Ensigns. That will be your job as well as the other duties that come with the position.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. I had forgotten that detail – I remembered what we’d been like as Ensigns and shuddered – but there was no getting out of it now. “She taught me how to deal with them, sir.”

  “And of course you will remember what it was like to be young and unformed yourself,” the Captain continued. He straightened up himself and looked into my eyes. It was almost like he had returned to his old personality. “You are not just to be another Lieutenant on this vessel, John. As First Lieutenant, you are expected to be my tactical alter ego, advising me and, if necessary, disagreeing with me. You won’t find it easy, so let me assure you from the start that you may speak freely to me at all times.”

  “I never saw Lieutenant Hatchet disagreeing with you,” I said, puzzled. “I don’t recall that at all.”

  “Lieutenant Hatchet spoke to me in private about any doubts or issues she had,” the Captain explained. “You were never meant to hear anything that could cast doubt on my authority, or wisdom. Jason” – it took me a moment to realise that he meant the Political Officer – “would do the same. You’ll have to learn, John, but I’m sure that you can do it.

  “We spent the last cruise patrolling and watching for pirates and we will be doing the same on this cruise,” he continued. “We’re supposed to be escorting several freighters to Botany – they may be targeted by wreckers, but not by common pirates – and then onwards to New Paris, before heading out for a circuit through the Beyond. It may not work out as planned. The last cruise left us all exhausted.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said. If nothing else, it would give us time to break in the new Ensigns. “How far are we going to go into the Beyond?”

  “Maybe a hundred light years,” the Captain said. “It may be slightly further, but it depends on what we find. We may even have to return to Earth or another fleet base sooner than we expect.”

  I couldn’t keep the grin off my face. The Beyond referred to the space beyond the advancing wavefront of official human colonisation. Anything could be out there, from hidden human colonies to pirate bases and shipyards. It almost made up for the run to Botany. We might even discover the first non-human civilisation, although I wasn’t sure I wanted the UN to encounter them. The UN’s reaction to primitive groups on Earth and some of the colonies was generally to keep them primitive, in the theory that primitive cultures shouldn’t be allowed to vanish from the universe. It probably explained a lot about Muna’s history.

  “It’s not that exciting,” the Captain warned. “The last two sweeps through the Beyond found nothing of interest, beyond a pair of habitable planets. You’ll probably find it rather boring.”

  “It couldn’t be boring,” I said, shaking my head. How could I explain the thought of seeing emptiness that no one had ever seen before? “Ah, sir…I…”

  “Never mind,” the Captain said. He grinned at me, and then softened. “Now, I want a full briefing on Heinlein – and I want the truth, nothing, but the truth.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said, and started to talk.

  It lasted nearly an hour. I’d started with the invasion and gone on to talk about how the war was progressing, although my information was at least a month out of date. I mentioned the strikes on civilians and how many innocents were being killed in the crossfire, but I didn’t mentioned anything about Ensign Gomez. I did mention that the reporters had been mostly killed in engagements in ‘safe’ areas, however.

  “I have met a few reporters,” the Captain
said, dryly. “You won't have to worry about them on this vessel.” I let out a sigh of relief. “You will have to take care of the Infantry Company we’re shipping to Botany, but they won’t be as bad.”

  “No, sir,” I said, and kept my thoughts to myself. The Infantry had picked up a bad reputation on Heinlein, at least as far as I was concerned. “Why…?”

  “Apparently someone at UNPF headquarters doesn’t quite trust the assurances that the troop transports are perfectly safe,” the Captain said. I couldn’t disagree with that unnamed officer, even if he had just condemned us to a crowded ship for the first two weeks of the voyage. “Botany doesn’t rate a high priority, so they’re just being dumped on us for the trip. We can’t put them in the barges or there’ll be a mutiny. They’re a good unit, so be nice to them. An old friend of mine is in command.”

  “Yes, sir,” I said.

  The Captain studied the starmap on his display for a long moment. “We’re scheduled to depart in two weeks,” he said. I nodded. That had been in the data pack that he’d forwarded to me, along with instructions on boarding. “You’ll have two days to adjust yourself to this ship - again – and then the Ensigns will arrive. You’ll have a proper First Ensign, at least, so that won’t be a problem. Stand watch tomorrow with me and we’ll run through a few drills.”