Martial Law 1: Patriotic Treason Read online

  PATRIOTIC TREASON

  (Martial Law: Book One)

  Christopher G. Nuttall

  Cover Design by http://www.jeremytaylor.eu

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  Contents

  Title Page

  Part I: Ensign Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Interlude One

  Part II: Lieutenant Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Interlude Two

  Part III: First Lieutenant Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Interlude Three

  Part IV: Captain Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Interlude Four

  Part V: Generalissimo Chapter Forty

  Appendix One: The Treaty of Unity

  Part I: Ensign

  Prologue

  From: An Unbiased History of the United Nations. Williamson, Mike. Baen Historical Press, Heinlein, 2555.

  We have seen in the preceding chapters how the factors of improved access to space, growing ethnic and international conflict and endless Wrecker attacks led to the exodus of human industry to the solar system, where safety could be guaranteed. The construction of the first orbital towers, the development of fusion power and – not coincidentally – ever-harsher regulations on Earth ensured that the space-based communities would lose most of their loyalty to Earth. The development of the Jump Drive by Professor Kratman in 2156 merely cemented that trend.

  The first viable extra-solar colony world was discovered in 2157 and settled under the auspices of the UN. The land was shared out among interested groups who could afford space on the first colony ships – and the vast bribes paid to various UN bureaucrats – and those who were victims of ‘historical oppression.’ The result, for reasons that will be examined later, was a catastrophe of the first order. The next seventeen worlds to be settled by the human race were established by various nation-states – America, Britain, China, France, Russia and many others – and immigration quotas were firmly centred on those who could fit in. Although this policy was regarded – not entirely without reason – as racist, the UN was unable to counter it, as national armed forces were still a significant power. Other worlds, including Heinlein, Balboa and Williamson’s World, were settled according to a political ideal, or by corporate interests. By 2200, there were nearly one hundred and eighty worlds settled by the human race, with an ever-growing sphere of exploration and secret settlement.

  The unintended consequence of this development was that it allowed the UN to consolidate its power on Earth and, later, throughout the solar system. There had always been a trend towards transnational institutions and this only accelerated as nationalists or patriots emigrated from their countries to newer pastures. As the UN tightened its grip, the United Nations Peace Force became the dominant military power of the world and national armed forces were either disarmed or encouraged to depart to the outer worlds. The growing social collapse over much of Earth – and resentment among the so-called Third World for years of semi-imaginary offences committed by the richer nations – only encouraged further emigration. In short, the UN’s bid for global power had succeeded itself to death. It had inherited a still-breathing corpse.

  This was not immediately appreciated by the UN General Assembly, or the bureaucrats, who were by that time the real rulers of the planet. It became staggeringly clear when attempts to settle newer worlds based on past historical grievances tended to fail spectacularly. Worse, Earth’s production system was falling apart – by now, the planet was completely dependent on imported goods from the solar system – and the planet’s population was eating itself to death. The UN had either driven away or killed the men and women who could have solved the problems, and compounded their crimes by making it impossible for new ones to appear.

  It was a problem that required a firm grasp of reality and ruthless measures to survive, all of which were politically impossible. Instead, the UN looked for another answer. It had always claimed jurisdiction over the extra-solar planets, the bureaucrats reasoned, and surely it was right for them to aid Earth in her hour of greatest need. The one element of the UN that had continued to work fairly well, insofar as anything worked fairly well, was the military arm, which had been confronted with endless rebellions on Earth against UN authority. The Generals drew up a plan, dispatched the fleet, and sat back, fully expecting victory and loot for Earth’s starved economy.

  The plan didn’t go exactly as they had predicted.

  In fact, it went spectacularly wrong.

  The outer worlds didn’t recognise the authority of the UN. Many of their parents and grandparents had fled the UN’s growing control over their lives. They had built their new worlds for themselves, not for the UN to loot. The resistance started almost at once and, while the UNPF was extremely powerful, rapidly became impossible to suppress quickly. The UN found itself caught up in an insurrection on a galactic scale. Victory was as distant as ever.

  It was into this world that John Walker was born.

  Chapter One

  The principle requirement for an officer serving in the UNPF is political reliability; i.e. he or she is fully aware of and dedicated to the UN’s official purpose. The courses at the Peace Academy (Space Studies) are therefore largely dedicated to political indoctrination sessions, often at the expense of competency. UNPF cadets and trainees, therefore, are often brutally unprepared for the hazards of space service. At least a fifth of newly-minted Ensigns die within the first year of their active service.

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

  “Look at her,” Ensign Roger Williamson said. “Isn’t she magnificent?”

  I couldn’t help, but agree. Even docked at Orbit Seven, the largest UNPF space station orbiting Luna, UNS Jacques Delors was an impressive sight. Two hundred meters long, shaped rather like a child’s dream starship, it was painted the bright white and blue colours of the United Nations Peace Force. It bristled with weapons and sensor modules and gave the impression, somehow, of being new. We knew, of course, that it was over ten years old, but it didn’t look it. I stared, trying to drink in all the details of my new posting, the first since I – we – had graduated the Peace Academy.

  �
�She is,” I breathed, awed. The starship just took my breath away. I glanced down at my watch-terminal and allowed myself a moment of relief. We were only seven minutes late, hardly worth worrying about. We could stay and stare at the starship for several more minutes before we walked down the docking tube and boarded her formally. “The images didn’t do her justice.”

  “You never said a truer word, John,” Roger said. “Muna, what do you think?”

  “I think I’m glad to have made it through the Academy,” Muna said, flatly. Ensign Muna Mohammad, for reasons I never fully understood, had almost failed the Academy and nearly been sent home in disgrace. “I also think that we should hurry up and board her.”

  Roger snorted. “There’s no need to rush,” he assured her. “The Captain won’t leave us behind, I’m sure.”

  Ensign Rolf Lommerde coughed. “For those of us who do not have highly-placed relations,” he said, “it is rather less easy to be sure of our own safety.”

  “I know,” Roger said, seriously. He was an alright type really, despite his family’s connections in the vast UN bureaucracy that ran the United Nations. He’d certainly never traded on them to get better treatment from our instructors back at the Academy. “Sally? Ellen? Should we go…?”

  “Yeah,” Ellen said. She picked up her carryall with a sigh. “We want to make a good impression, don’t we?”

  Roger led the way down to the docking tube, which was guarded by a pair of armed and armoured Marines. I studied them with interest as Roger explained who we were; their armour, I had been assured, could stand off either bullets or laser beams. They both looked tough and scarred from the wars; indeed, it took me several minutes to realise that one of them was actually female. I wouldn’t have dared try to chat her up in a bar, had I known that she was a Marine. The Marines had a reputation for being utterly unforgiving in a fight.

  “You may pass,” one of the Marines said, finally. He seemed to exchange a glance with his comrade. When he spoke, it was in a grave voice that somehow seemed to hold a vast amount of amusement. “I hope you enjoy your time on the ship.”

  I didn’t understand why, but I could have sworn I felt a chill run down my neck as he spoke. Roger ignored it, if he noticed it, and led us down the long docking tube towards the starship’s main airlock. I felt myself tensing again and not just because of the fact we were about to set foot on a starship for the first time. The docking tubes were supposed to be perfectly safe, but I had heard whispers of accidents that had left unprotected victims dumped into space, killed almost instantly before they could save themselves. The course on surviving in a vacuum at the Academy had been almost painfully blunt.

  “This assumes that you will be near a set of emergency supplies,” Instructor Patel had informed us, glaring around the class with his single eye. No one knew how he’d lost the other one. “If not, you’re dead. Bend over and kiss your ass goodbye.”

  We hadn’t taken the time to study the diagrams of the starship that had been included with our orders, but we weren’t surprised when the docking tube opened into a small reception area, with a single UN flag at the rear of the chamber. I barely noticed it. All of my attention was taken, at once, by the woman waiting for us at the end of the docking tube. I took one look at her and knew, exactly, what the Marines had found so funny. They’d known that the dragon was waiting for us.

  “And what time,” she demanded, “do you call this?”

  She looked tough. She might have been attractive when she had been younger, but years of living and working in space had evidently taken a toll. I met her blue eyes for a long moment and then found myself looking away. I couldn’t bear to look at her. She was looking at us as if we were something she’d scraped off her shoes, or perhaps a mess a dog had left on her clean floors...and no one had ever looked at us like that before. I felt about a centimetre tall, perhaps smaller. I hadn’t felt so small since my grandfather had caught me with a girl I’d known when I’d been fourteen.

  “Ah…1309,” Roger stammered. He was clearly as caught out as I was. “We were ordered to report onboard and…”

  “You were ordered to report onboard at 1300,” the woman said. Her voice suddenly became a commanding bark. “Stand to attention, now!”

  We jumped and tried hastily to form a line, standing to attention. It took us nearly a minute to get into position. We hadn’t practiced it since the first week at the Academy, two years ago. I cursed our mistake under my breath, not daring to speak aloud; we should have practiced more. Standing to attention means standing absolutely still and I was suddenly very shaky on my feet.

  “That is pathetic,” the woman said. She glared at Ellen, who was the first in line. “That’s a dress uniform, isn’t it?” Ellen nodded, too terrified to speak. “Answer me when I ask you a direct question, Ensign!”

  “Yes…ah, Lieutenant,” Ellen said. “It’s a dress uniform with…”

  “A simple yes is sufficient,” the Lieutenant thundered. “Why are you not wearing a jacket? Why do you have a stain on your shirt?”

  Ellen gulped twice. “Because I didn’t wash the shirt, Lieutenant,” she explained, looking as if she was staring into the face of Medusa herself. “I didn’t have the time…”

  “You should have made the time,” the Lieutenant informed her. She looked Ellen up and down, and then dismissed her with one flick of her eyebrows. “One demerit for untidiness while wearing a dress uniform. A second demerit for not taking care of your issued uniform.”

  She paused and glared at us. “The dress uniform is a sacred uniform,” she informed us. We’d been told that at the Academy, but it somehow hadn’t sunk in. “You wear the dress uniform, you represent the honour of the Peace Force itself. You” – she pointed a long finger at Roger – “what is that?”

  “My coming-of-age badge,” Roger said. It was a silver talisman that had been presented to him on his sixteenth birthday, just before he had joined the Academy as a cadet. “It’s from my…”

  “Get rid of it,” the Lieutenant snapped. She eyed him up and down icily. “The dress uniform is worn according to regulations and there are no additions, understand?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant,” Roger said. He looked pale, but at least he managed to keep his voice steady. “I understand.”

  “You,” the Lieutenant said, pointing to Muna. “What is that?”

  “My headscarf,” Muna said, somehow standing her ground. Like most people from a very religious background, Muna had permission to wear a symbol of her religion, even if she didn’t want to wear it. It was blue and went surprisingly well with the dress uniform, but the Lieutenant wasn't impressed.

  “You put someone else in danger wearing that thing, you get put in front of the Captain’s desk,” she thundered. I was starting to think that thundering was all that she did. “I…suggest that you wear it only as part of your dress uniform, understand?”

  Her gaze locked onto me. I’d felt less threatened back when I’d been trying to escape the neighbourhood gangs and bullies back home. “Your shirt isn’t tucked into your trousers,” she informed me, her eyes never leaving mine. “Your hair is also longer than regulation length. Have it cut on your next off-duty period, understand?”

  “Yes, Lieutenant,” I said. I wouldn’t have dared object. The Academy hadn’t cared about hair length or many other things, but it was clear that things were slightly different here. This was a real starship, when all was said and done. “I understand.”

  “Excellent,” the Lieutenant said, sardonically, when she had finished. All of us had earned at least two demerits. “I see that we have a right set of geniuses here. Every year, without fail, the quality of Academy graduates grows worse and worse. Every year, I find myself having to teach young men and women who are unworthy of Cadet Rank how to survive on a starship.” Her gaze moved from face to face. “The worst that can happen to you at the Academy is being expelled for gross misconduct. The worst that can happen to you here is that you get your silly ass kill
ed, understand? If you’re really unlucky, you’ll take the rest of us with you.”

  She stood back and smiled thinly. “Attention to detail is the first thing they should have taught you at the Academy,” she added. “You may find all of these little rituals silly and wasteful, but they help to keep your lives safe. If you have a problem with any of them, you may leave the ship now. Are there any takers?”

  There weren’t. None of us were stupid enough to take her up on her offer. We had all joined the UNPF to explore the galaxy, not to spend the rest of our lives flying desks on Luna Base, or Mars, or one of the other UNPF bases scattered around the ever-expanding human sphere. Even if the Lieutenant was a Medusa and the Captain was the Devil himself, we would have stayed on the ship. Nothing would have induced us to leave.

  “Good,” the Lieutenant said, finally. “Perhaps we can make something of you yet.” She pointed one long finger towards the UN flag. “I believe that you have forgotten something…?”

  As one, we turned and saluted the flag. “Good,” she said, again. “At ease.”