Peacemaker: The Corona Rebellion 2564 AD
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Peacemaker
The Corona Rebellion 2564AD
Gordon S. Savage, Jr.
This is a work of fiction. All the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Peacemaker
The Corona Rebellion 2564AD
©2017 by Gordon Savage. All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.
Cover Design: Kirk DouPonce
Kirk@dogeareddesign.com
http://www.dogeareddesign.com/
Editor: Karen Reddick
karen@theredpeneditor.com
ISBN: 978-0-9976820-0-7 ebook
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Science Fiction | Adventure | Mystery
Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Dedication
To my darling wife, Carol, who has not only put up with me for over fifty years but also allowed me to enjoy spending the time to create this book. She has made my life what it is, and I’ll be forever grateful.
Our job is to maintain the peace, but that means if some dumb sum’ bitch won’t listen to reason, our job is to slap him upside the head until he will.
~ Admiral George Scott Remington, Jr.
Commencement Speech
Class of 2543
Royal Naval Academy
Canberra, Australia
Chapter 1
Commander William August Colt looked across the tarmac at his next assignment. He had known what to expect, but even so, she was incredible. The Invincible was the latest carrier to join the fleet and also the largest. At nearly 350 meters in length she dwarfed most ships of the line and even from the guard shack her size was awe inspiring. She was currently wearing light and dark gray with black lettering, her peace mission colors. Her aft launch door was down as a ramp, and workers and vehicles streamed in and out loading supplies.
“Your gear is unloaded, sir. Have a safe tour.”
Colt returned the salute. “Thank you, Petty Officer Estrada.” He caught a fleeting smile before she turned. He sighed briefly and reached down to pick up the steering handle of his footlocker. A blaster bolt rasped past his ear, singeing his hair and throwing a fiery plume of dust and dirt in the air a few meters away. He reacted immediately, diving for the only cover available, a small drainage ditch between the parking spaces and the guard fence. Almost before he hit the ground another bolt took a notch out of the parking bumper along the ditch. Pieces of hot concrete showered down on him.
He raised his head to trace the bolt back from where he had been standing and caught a glimpse of movement on top of one of the buildings. He rolled out of the way as a third bolt shattered the bumper. A voice behind him shouted, “Keep down, Commander. I’ll be there in a second.” He turned his head to look back. Through the dust and falling debris he saw the gate guard, a burly marine, running toward him, with an M44 blast rifle in his hands.
“On top of the hangar at your ten o’clock,” Colt shouted.
The guard swung around to face the hangar as another bolt sprayed harmlessly off his deflector shield. He aimed his rifle and then hesitated, “Damn. He ducked behind the crown of the roof.” He activated his communicator. “Dispatch, there's a dropper on top of hangar 42A. See if you can pick him up on motion sensor or video and get a team after him. He's armed with a hand blaster.”
The guard listened for a moment. “That's right. He took a couple of shots at Commander Colt. He must have been listening when the main gate called him in.”
Colt raised his head to take another look. The rooftop was clear, but the guard signaled him to stay down. Finally, the guard said, “The shooter seems to be gone.” He slung his rifle and walked over.
Colt felt the breeze‑like touch of the shield as it passed over him. He stood up inside its protection, picked up his cap, and dusted himself off. “What the hell is going on? I'm not used to being shot at, especially on base and in peacetime!”
The guard was all business, “Sorry, sir. I can't answer that. Captain Wessler might be able to tell you something. She sends her apologies and requests you join her in her cabin as soon as you’re aboard. I'll have your gear sent up.”
Colt knew better than to try to get anything more out of the guard. Obviously Colt was supposed to go straight to the ship. He fought to control his thudding heart and wondered if the guard shack had a spare personal shield. He noticed the guard was again listening to his communicator.
“Copy.” Then he said to Colt, “Whoever took those shots dropped off the top of the building and got inside before the peepers could lock a video cam on him. Chances are he's gotten away for now, but he's in no position to take any more shots at you.” He deactivated his shield. “Now, could I see your ID, sir?”
###
Colt was still shaky when he left the guard gate, and his mind raced. This was supposed to be the big one. He was coming aboard the HMS Invincible as the deputy flight wing commander. The assignment would get him promoted to captain, and he had already been more than a little wound-up. Then he had been told to report to Captain Wessler, the ship’s captain, and, of course, Petty Officer Estrada wasn’t permitted to tell him why. Now someone was shooting at him. What was going on?
He picked up his pace and focused on the ship in front of him to steady his nerves. As he neared the personnel gangway, the traffic on the aft launch door ramp briefly cleared to allow an airborne ambulance access. He paused while it flew into the launch bay. What was a civilian ambulance doing coming aboard a navy carrier? Someone must have been seriously injured if the sickbay couldn’t handle it.
At the top of the gangway to the aft personnel airlock he came to attention and addressed the officer of the day. “Permission to come aboard, sir.”
Chapter 2
The OD, an ensign who looked as if he didn’t yet need to shave, replied, “Permission granted. Welcome aboard, Commander Colt. The captain is waiting for you in her cabin.”
Colt headed forward, absorbing the familiar shipboard sights, sounds, and odors. As he passed a lateral corridor he got a glimpse of the three levels of the hangar bay. The tail of a Scorpion fighter caught his eye. The lettering on the vertical stabilizer, “LA,” designated the 131st Attack Squadron. As he watched a tug backing it into a parking space, he wondered again about his assignment.
He followed the starboard passageway a sho
rt distance to the turbo lifts and was about to touch the call pad when the pressure hatch for the middle lift released and slid open.
A moment later he stepped out of the lift to a distinctly different atmosphere. Simulated oak paneling lined the walls, deep green carpet covered the passageway deck, and a brass sign read “Officer’s Country.” Colt made a mental note to see what the enlisted quarters looked like.
A few meters down the passageway he came to a door with a name plate that read, “Capt. G. M. Wessler.” He touched the annunciator pad and a familiar voice immediately said, “Commander Colt, come in.”
The door slid open long enough for Colt to step through. He halted at attention, “Commander William August Colt reporting as―”
“Can it, Gus. Come on in.” Captain Gretchen Wessler walked up and extended her hand, “It’s been a while. How are you? I understand someone tried to use you for target practice.”
Wessler was an old friend, and Colt gave her a wan smile, biting off an urge to say, “It wasn’t that funny to me.”
“I’m sure you’re wondering what’s up,” Wessler continued.
“Captain, I’m more than wondering. The gate guard didn’t seem all that surprised. What the Hemlock is happening around here? People don’t get shot at ….”
Wessler held up her hand. “I’ll tell you what we know in a moment.” She turned to the civilian seated on the couch. “This is Bremerhaven Chief Constable Martin Hatcher.”
He stood and offered his hand, gripping Colt’s firmly, “Despite the circumstances, a pleasure, sir.”
“I'll get back to why he's here. And, this is my aide, Mark Claiborne.” Colt shook Claiborne's hand.
“Please have a seat, and help yourself to a cup of tea.” She waited for Colt to pour his tea. She glanced at the constable. “There have been several incidents in the past few days. Mr. Hatcher is here because of a shooting in town last night. Oscar Hernandez and three of my other officers were badly wounded.”
Colt nearly dumped the tea in his lap.
“Oscar is in critical condition. The ship’s surgeon thinks he'll make it, but even if he does, he'll need extensive reconstruction. That’s too big a job for sick bay so we're going to send him to the Naval Medical Center in Melbourne on a medevac Dart. Which brings me to why I wanted to talk to you right away: this means a change in your orders. As of now you will be replacing Hernandez as first mate of the Invincible.”
This time he did spill his tea.
“But I was scheduled to be the deputy flight wing commander,” Colt protested mildly.
“Ralph,” she said, speaking of the wing commander, “and I have discussed this. His senior squadron commander is an acceptable fit for deputy. I have some good officers, but none are as well qualified as you. So, unless you’ve any real objections, I want you for the job.”
Trying not to appear too eager Colt hesitated briefly. “As long as the two of you have agreed,” he responded, “I don’t have a problem.”
“We’ll announce it to the crew at the all hands at eighteen hundred,” Wessler said.
“Now, as to why you were shot at. We believe it was for the same reason Oscar was shot. Someone wants to delay our next mission.”
“I’m not that essential,” Colt objected. “For that matter you could promote any number off your current officers to XO in a pinch.”
“Apparently whoever is doing this doesn’t know the navy that well.”
Wessler changed the subject, “Meanwhile, Mark will take you for a situation briefing.” The annunciator on her desk interrupted her. She touched a pad, “Wessler!”
“Captain, this is the gate. Miss Lisa Aaron of Interplanet News is here to see you. It’s about the recent shootings.”
Wessler sighed, “Send her in. We can’t ignore the press. Looks like your briefing will have to wait, Gus. She’ll undoubtedly want to talk to you. I think you’ll find her interesting.”
###
The reporter and her camera operator showed at the captain’s door less than five minutes later.
After the introductions, Wessler motioned toward the couch. “Please have a seat, Lisa.” She turned to the camera operator. “Yuri, the room is clean. Set up wherever you want.” Then she walked around behind her desk and sat down.
Lisa relaxed onto the couch. She turned her attention to Colt. “So, Commander Colt, I hear you got a rather warm welcome earlier this evening.”
Colt barked a short, nervous laugh. “I guess you could call it that. If it had been any warmer, I wouldn’t be here now.”
“What can you tell me about it?”
“I was approaching the gate when someone took a shot at me. He missed.”
“Do you have any idea why someone would shoot at you?”
“The best guess is that it has something to do with the Invincible’s next mission, which is apparently common knowledge on the street.”
“And what is that?”
“I said it was common knowledge on the street. Unfortunately, I haven’t had time to visit town and find out.”
She laughed and turned to Wessler. “Captain Wessler, what is the Invincible’s next mission?”
“It’s not classified. How much time do you have?”
“You know the news business. I’ll be lucky to get an eight second sound bite.”
“We’re going to Corona to help restore order. The loyalists have asked us to mediate a truce.”
“So there is outright fighting there?”
“The information we have is that different rebel groups have taken over a few towns and are trying to take over several others. That information is sketchy; in fact, the best we have is from the live news broadcasts since the navy doesn’t have an intelligence operation on Corona, and if Imperial Intelligence has one, it’s not telling. The GNN newscast a few hours ago said the rebels are calling on the central government to secede from the Republic.”
Lisa stood up. “Well, if the best information I can get is from a rival news organization, there’s not much point in me wasting any more of your time, Captain. Thank you for seeing me.”
She turned to Colt and flashed a brilliant smile. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Commander.”
Colt returned the smile. “The same.”
Wessler got up and followed her to the door. “When we get back, you’ll have to stop by for a social visit, Lisa. We haven’t had an informal get together in ages.”
“Thanks, Gretchen. Give me a call.”
When the door hissed shut, Wessler looked at Colt. “This policy of openness with the media ….” She frowned. “I’m still not completely comfortable with it. Thank goodness I like her.” She nodded at Claiborne. “Now, Mark will take you for that briefing.”
Interlude
“This is perfect.” Richard Quan smacked his fist into his other palm. “These natives are just what we need, Corey.”
Annoyed, Corey Anne McKillip responded, “Don’t call me Corey. My name is Maryanne Phillips. You make that slip in public and someone will start asking questions.”
Quan was pacing in front of McKillip in her private office in First Landing, the capital city of the planet Corona. She held the impressive title of Minister of Defense in the planetary parliament, second in rank to the Prime Minister. She sat behind a cluttered desk, looking at an intercepted message on the display screen. The message was from Governor General Remarque to the Colonization Board reporting the discovery of natives on the planet.
Quan stopped long enough to glance at her. “Whatever. You’ve got a new face and new fingerprints and no one has any reason to run your DNA. As far as anyone here knows, you haven’t done anything illegal.”
“As far as they know.”
“And no one can prove anything with Prochaska out of the picture.” He paused his pacing again. “You want to hear what I have in mind?”
“Go ahead,” but she continued to frown.
“As soon as the Colonization Board finds out about the natives, t
hey’ll relocate all the colonists.”
“You’re talking about millions of people. It won’t happen. It would cost too much.”
“That’s the beauty of it. By law they have to.” He started pacing again. “If the colonists declare independence and set up their own government, I’m betting the Republic won’t spend the money to take back control and move them. In fact, the colonization laws specifically allow colonies to secede from the republic if the population approves it.”
“There are too many things wrong with that idea.” She ticked of the problems on the fingers of her left hand. “First, a majority of the citizens would have to vote in favor of seceding. One reason there haven’t been any colonies that have seceded is most people are happy belonging to the Republic. Second, the Republic can’t afford to allow colonies to secede just to avoid obeying laws that are inconvenient. They’d have to make an example of Corona.”
Quan interrupted, “I disagree. I honestly don’t believe the Republic would spend the money to relocate the colonists, much less send an expeditionary force to take the planet back.”
“Assuming you’re right, why should the colonists vote in favor of breaking away from the Republic? I suspect that even if they have to give up their homesteads, most people on Corona would still want to be citizens of the Republic.”
Quan turned to look at her again. “You’re the politician. Convince them.”
She considered for a moment. “Okay. What do we have for leverage?”
“The third planet — what’s its name? It’s habitable and doesn’t have natives. It even has colonists.”
She answered his question, “Persephone. The planet is Persephone. But the whole damn world is a hothouse. Where it’s not jungle or ocean, the desert is too hot to live in the open.”
“Exactly,” he smiled. “So where do you think the Republic would relocate the colonists from here?”
For a second she feigned shock. “That’s just plain evil.” Then she grinned, “And it’s logical. It would drastically cut the cost to the Republic.”