Heart of Steel: Book II of the Jonathan Pavel Series

by J. S. Hawn

  “What business is brought before this august body of the Delegates of the People and the Conscript Fathers of the State here assembled?”

  The Sergeant at Arms, a wizened old veteran, entered.

  “Tribune, the Premier of the Republic, by the Will of the People and Consent of the Senate, Tomas Banjour and his duly appointed Ministers wish to make entry, and bring matters before this assembled body.”

  “Is there any objection?” the Tribune asked making the ceremonial reply. “No? Then let him proceed.”

  “Tribune, Delegates, Conscript Fathers, the Premier of the Republic!” the Master of Arms cried out.

  Banjour entered and then was followed closely by his entire cabinet except for the Minister for Agriculture and Fisheries, who was represented by his deputy. It was law that one Minister would always be sequestered someplace safe when a joint session was called, so that in the event of the entire government being wiped out someone would be left to lead. As soon as Banjour walked through the door, everyone rose to their feet in applause. A Premier’s appearance before a joint session of the legislature was a momentous occasion, especially at a time of national crisis. It helped that most of Banjour’s enemies in the Quorum and Senate still respected him. Banjour had secured the Nationalist majority by moving them away from the party of the well-to-do Steader and moderately conservative Landed to a party of the everyman. Banjour believed staunchly in the meritocracy, and it showed in his politics. He elevated men because of talent, not because of breeding or last name. Though he wasn't above cutting political deals, hence Atherton Gao as Minister of Public Safety. Like the Populists, Banjour believed that the government could help the least among the people rise to unexpected heights. Despite disagreeing on how to actually implement Banjour’s vision of the Republic, the Populists for the most part were happy to go along with policies that they found in line with their own. They were happy that Banjour reciprocated by giving government backing to a number of public housing, make work, welfare, and integration initiatives the Populists proposed. If Banjour had won the grudging admiration of the Populists, the Liberals had practically fallen in love with him. His free and fair markets policies had practically made the new Liberal leadership swoon.

  It wouldn't of mattered if Banjour was unsuccessful in his job. Solarians could be a fractious and quarrelsome lot, but when they as a people were threatened time and time again they closed ranks and stood shoulder to shoulder undivided against a foreign foe. It was that spirit of unity that Banjour would try to tap today in his address. He knew the country was looking to him in this time of need, and from a certain perspective that was almost literally true. Across Solaria, holo broadcasts switched over to cover the Premier’s address. It was still officially a holiday, though you wouldn't know it. Businesses were shuttered, but stores had opened by Government order so citizens could stock up on essentials. Everywhere men and women were reporting to their reserve regiment depos, informing their superiors they were fit for call up, or else explaining why they weren't. All across Solaria and the wider systems, hundreds of millions of people stopped what they were doing and waited to hear what their leader had to say. In the Capital itself, the applause subsided as Banjour climbed into the speaker’s box, which was a simple, wooden construction that sat in front of the Tribune’s seat where any non member of the legislature could address the chamber. Holding up his hands for silence, the applause slowly died down helped along by the rhythmic thumping of the Guardsman's rifles and the pounding of the Tribunes gavel. At last when silence had fallen over the chamber, Banjour began his address.

  “Friends, Citizens, Delegates of the People, and Conscript Fathers of the State, our nation faces a crisis. For months now we have endured provocation after provocation by the insipid regime of the Colonial Confederacy, which has played on the fears of its people to mobilize them into an armed aggression against our Great Republic. Our diplomatic overtures have fallen on deaf ears. Our attempts to move past the dastardly and underhanded actions of the Colonials in the New Helsinki system, a confirmed friend and client of the Republic, has been met only with repeated denials and double talk. Even though it is undisputed here and abroad that it was the Confederacy's proxies who committed the great sin of detonating nuclear weapons!”

  Banjour was interrupted at that point by cries of outrage and shouts demanding ‘war now!’. It took several minutes to bring the chamber to order once more.

  “Now though, the Colonials have chosen to further escalate this conflict. Naval and Land Forces of the Colonial Confederacy have without provocation or warning attacked a lightly fortified Solarian Listening Post in the border regions. It is with great pride and a heavy heart that I can confirm that every Solarian Spacer and Marine on LP-115 was a credit to his service. Most died at their stations and we have accepted an offer by the Union of Sovereign Systems to help us repatriate the survivors.”

  Banjour paused and looked directly at one of the holo drones.

  “Let us be clear, this action was nothing short than an act of war perpetrated by the criminal gang, which now claims to speak for the Colonial people. We have, therefore, formulated a final ultimatum for the Colonial Government. The Colonials shall be given six weeks to respond to this ultimatum, and should they fail to answer it to our satisfaction I shall again come before this august body to ask for a declaration of war.”

  Banjour stopped for applause which was punctuated by shouts from the floor and gallery of “War Now, War Now!” or “Peace, Peace!”

  Finally the thumping of the Guards rifle butts and the pounding of the Deputy-Tribune’s gavel quieted the hubbub.

  “The Ultimatum is as follows,” Banjour said.

  “First, The Confederacy shall cease all aggressive actions along our shared border, and return to a status quo of mutual de-escalation. Second, the Confederacy shall now and for all time recognize the sovereignty and security of the Republic’s dominion over its client nations including those in the Keplar cluster. Third and finally, the Confederacy shall extradite all those to the Solarian National Police, following an extensive investigation, have been deemed responsible in part or in full for the New Helsinki incident.” Again Banjor had to pause, as right and left either shouted adulation or derision of the ultimatum. When quiet returned once more, the Premier continued,

  “Upon considering this ultimatum, I also ask the assembled Quorum and Senate to declare and consent to a state of mobilization for the armed forces of the Republic.”

  Banjour paused deliberately before continuing, “Ladies and Gentleman, here in this hallowed house of the People, we must do our duty to those who have elected us and to the state and constitution we serve, and pray for peace while preparing for war. May God be with us all!”

  The room erupted into cheering, shouting, applauding, yelling. It was pure pandemonium. Several members of the right and left clashed physically on the floor as the Guards worked to separate them. Banjour quietly folded his notes and returned to the Government seat, and throughout the chamber a chant emerged from the chaotic clamor, “Vote, Vote, Vote, Vote!!!!!!”

  It took a full half hour to bring the chamber back to order, but when it was finally done the roll call began. The ultimatum and the mobilization were put together as one motion and passed the Quorum 640-10. The Senate then very sedately voted to consent to the Quorum’s motion without amendment. Two hundred-eighty Senators stood up making their approval of the motion known, while twenty remained seated With the motion passed, the clerk printed a paper hard copy and handed it to the runner who then, escorted by two Republican and two Senatorial Guards, went and nailed the motion on the Capital’s front door making it law.

  Across Solaria, people went back to what they were doing, though now there was an added tension and urgency to the air. Mobilization meant call ups, and call ups meant war. Across Solaria, personal com devices began to buzz, messages appeared in in-boxes. The reserves were being called activated. Within thirty days, hundreds of million m
en and women would be asked to return to their reserve units, and hundreds of millions more would report for duty as conscripts, and that was just on Solaria. The great laser com relays carried the Premier’s message and the Quorum’s vote across the Republic.

  Chapter V

  Levelflats, Solaria Prime, Solarian Republic

  Hu-Chun Tower, Silmarillion District, The Glass House

  September 25th 844 AE

  The Glass House wasn't the best restaurant in Levelflats. That title belonged to Housers in Emerald Square. The chef at the Glass House did his best to compete, but it was hard to match Housers’s Old Shanghai trained culinary artist. Despite being only the runner up where food was concerned, The Glass House was still the most desired place to eat in Levelflats because of the view. The restaurant sat at the top of Hu-Chun Tower the tallest building in Levelflats, or on the entire continent of Tianamen for that matter. The Glass House was located on Hu-Chun’s 175th floor, and slowly rotated 360 degrees giving diners an unparalleled view of the city below, as well as a touch of motion sickness for some. There was a six month waiting list for a reservation unless you knew someone who knew someone. How Heather had managed to snag a table for six on such short notice was a mystery.

  “Here’s to the most handsome groom and most stunning bride in all of the Republic,”Jonathan Pavel said raising his wine glass.

  “Or at least on Solaria!” Gopal chimed in.

  William Trendale, looking every inch the naval officer in his dress whites, accepted graciously raising his glass while Heather Trendale nee Conigen in her plain white dress grinned ear to ear, and pulled Will in for another kiss.

  “Ewww…” Bethany said. “Heather I don’t mind that you married my big brother, but please when you two are in public keep it to a minimum.”

  The whole table laughed at Bethany's bad joke. They were on there third bottle of wine after all.

  Heather and William had been married less than a hour before in front of a magistrate at the historic brick and mortar Old Town courthouse. It was a small ceremony with Nathan as best man, Bethany as maid of honor and Jonathan and Zeta serving as witnesses. The happy couple were booked on the 2:00 p.m. shuttle to Pogoa, a small tropical resort island in the middle of the Shangri La Ocean for a three day honeymoon. Everyone sitting at the table enjoying the fantastic post wedding brunch, knew that after William returned from his honeymoon it could be years before he saw Heather again. It could be years before any of them saw each other again. Nathan and Zeta already had a hotel room booked in Levelflats for the rest of Nathan's shore leave. Jonathan was taking the first lift up the space elevator to Macran, and then taking a Navy tender ship to join Sound of Fury, which was being pulled from mothball stage in the orbit of Zhong the Solaria system’s larger gas giant. Bethany had booked herself on a flight home to Junopolis. Jonathan was going to miss her. They had spent the last two days before the ceremony camped out in her hotel. They hadn't said anything, though Jonathan knew that Nathan was wise to them, judging by the smirking looks he was giving them. William and Heather only had eyes for each other, and Jonathan wanted to avoid the whole topic if possible. Remembering his own sister Julia, and the time he and his brother Jaroed put her first boyfriend Carl in a trash can, and refused to release him for a half hour, Jonathan realized this was what karma felt like. Jonathan at least knew where he was going. Nathan and Will hadn’t received their orders yet, but the rumor mill had Cronus attached to the 5th Fleet and a Battleship task force, while Minerva looked to be joining a destroyer flotilla with the 2nd. It was all still up in the air and could change at a moment's notice, but what was sure is that all three men and ships would soon be going off to war. Though Jonathan was going to a far quieter corner of it. Still, best not to dwell on that and to take the time to celebrate the simple joys of life. Keeping his face all smiles and doing his best to pretend to ignore Bethany's rather blatant overtures, she did love teasing him which would be annoying if he didn’t find it so adorable, Jonathan listened with half an ear to the holo player above the restaurant bar. The Premier’s address to the joint session of the Quorum and the Senate a few days ago had been received well by the voters and the pundits, but not so much by the Colonials. Images played over the holo of anti-Solarian demonstrations and riots across Colonial territory accompanied by more subdued demonstrations in the Earth Treaty Organization, the Union of Sovereign Systems, the Thaos Dominion and other nations. More worrying were the strikes in the League as some politicals urged the League to use this moment to reject Solarian domination.

  “Jonathan you seem to be elsewhere,” Bethany said brushing her leg against his under the table.

  “Sorry, I was miles away.”

  Bethany looked up at the holo.

  “I really don’t understand why Core Worlders insist on protesting every little thing. It seems like everytime something happens they take to the streets.”

  “Not all of them,” Jonathan replied. “But a good number do.”

  “You’ve visited the Core Worlds haven’t you John?” Zeta asked.

  “Yes, when I was young my father’s freighter was a regular on the trade lanes between the Core Worlds and the Mid-Rim.”

  “I have to admit I never understood Corers. The only time I was there was a packet vacation to the Mediterranean,” Zeta said. “They seem so different.”

  “That’s because they are dear,” Gopal replied. “Breathing recycled air and eating synth food tends to rot the brain.”

  “That would explain spacers, wouldn't it,” Bethany said with a wink.

  They all laughed at the comment.

  “Seriously though, why is it Earthers seem so against us?” Zeta asked.

  “I don’t think there against us. It’s just we are the flavor of the month for Earth’s professionally outraged,” Jonathan said. “The nuking on New Helsinki was probably the worst atrocity since Hera. The Colonials insistence that we were behind it fits with the preconceived notions they have, that we are a bunch of fascist imperialists.”

  “That's the thing I don't understand,” Heather said. “Why do the Colonials, the Terrans, or the Unionist think of us like that?”

  “Well Heather, let me answer your question with a question. Do you trust your government?”

  They all looked at Jonathan oddly. It was a strange question to Solarian ears.

  “Of course,” Heather replied. “If I didn't I’d vote to kick them out of office.”

  “You see that's just it. Everyone at this table has cast a ballot since the day they turned 18. Everyone here did their national service. In my case as well as Will and Nathan, that meant seeking a commission in the Navy and the rest of you?”

  “Social year working in a community outreach program,” Heather said.

  “The same,” Bethany replied.

  Zeta blushed a little, “Eighteen months with the Military Police Corps 18th Judicial regiment, then on to law school.”

  “Whooo hoo! You were a ground pounder?” William asked. “Well, I can see why Nathan likes you so much.”

  “Haha..,” Nathan said. “I’ve already forgiven her for her lapse in judgement, but what was the point you were making Jonathan?”

  “Well, what I was pointing out was that as Solarians we feel we have a contract with the Government, a partnership if you will. We all pay taxes, we all vote, and we all do our service everyone of us - Landed, Steader, Provo alike. The Core Worlders don't have the same mindset. In their mind, the government is at best an annoyance, and at worst an active threat. The Colonials are the same. When you have a free moment, check the voter turnout in the last three Colonial elections. I think you’ll find they’ve continuously declined. On average, only about 40% of Colonials vote and most of them are ignorant of the issues.”

  “So they don't like their own government. Why do they hate us so?” Zeta asked.

  “Because they can't comprehend that we are a true Republic. They think in terms they understand. We are a large, powerful, and
highly militarized. In their mind we must be the fascist regime their leaders say we are. They don't like their leaders, but they do like a simple explanation for the complexities of the universe. If there ‘would be’ leaders provide a simple explanation that fits their universe view, then they’ll vote for them.”

  “That seems an incredibly depressing mindset to have,” Heather commented.

  Jonathan shrugged. “I always thought so. It struck me even at a young age traveling through the Core Worlds how ignorant of the wider universe people were, and how focused they were on their own selfish needs. So while we Solarians feel an obligation to the nation, to be involved in it, to work for it or with it, the Colonials, the Earthers and the other Corers don't see it that way. For them, the government is something that gets in the way, and since they’ve never bothered to look outside their own corner of the universe they transcribe their values onto foreign governments. You know most Earthers can’t distinguish between Solaria and the Commonwealth or the Ascendancy? To them, we are all ‘militant dictatorships.’”