Slaves of Hyperion (Star Crusades Uprising, Book 6)

by Thomas, Michael G.

  “Would one of you like to speak of what you have seen and read so far?”

  Spartan glanced to the men and women from the other services, but each appeared to be reluctant to speak their minds. Spartan could hardly blame them. They had each been sent to represent their respective branches of the military and would be expected to promote them at the expense of the others.

  Well, if somebody is going to be unpopular and take the bullet, it might as well be me!

  Spartan stood and nodded to the Magistrate.

  “Sir, I would be happy to speak on behalf of those I have served with.”

  Compared to the rest of those assembled, Spartan looked very different. He was well built, muscular and tall. His face was slightly scarred, as were his arms, but they were luckily covered up by his hastily cleaned Marine Corps uniform. He was about to speak, but the Magistrate raised her hand first.

  “Please state your name, unit and previous experience to the room, Lieutenant.”

  Spartan nodded and instantly felt uncomfortable with the formality.

  “My name is Lieutenant Spartan, previous commander of the Vanguards unit of the Confederate Marine Corps. My previous experience was with the 5th Reconnaissance Battalion under Lieutenant Colonel Blake.”

  “Thank you, Lieutenant. I see from your military record that you joined the Corps at Prometheus as part of the deal arranged following a violent transgression. Perhaps you might enlighten us to your work prior to joining the military?”

  Assholes, they can never just let it go, can they?

  “I used to fight in the pit fighting circuit around Prometheus and its stations.”

  That seemed to get the attention of most of those present, and he could instantly feel them judging him over events they had no idea about. Would they care about the debts he got himself into, and that he’d been forced to work in the illegal world of underground pit fighting to pay back the money? Even the circumstances of his crime that resulted in his service were murky. He’d tried to do the right thing and been punished for it. He turned his attention back to his friends, the Corps and Teresa. He had good things in his life now and that calmed him, at least for a few seconds. He looked around the Chamber and noticed that all their eyes were on him, waiting for him to continue.

  “I’ve fought in battle in space, aboard ships, on moons and on planets. I’ve seen the courage of all parts of the Confederate military, and I can say, without a doubt, we have some of the best men and women we could ever hope for.”

  He looked to the Defence Secretary and nodded towards him.

  “I have the greatest respect for my family, the Marine Corps, but I do agree with the Defence Secretary. The divisions and rivalries weaken us. It is not the people or the equipment that’s at fault. I’ve been in combat where more time has been spent arguing about jurisdiction and authority than has been spent in battle. I’ve also seen good soldiers that have been turned against loyalists simply down to the ambitions of regional commanders with political authority,” he explained with a clarity that surprised most of the civilians present.

  Now that he had spoken, one of the Navy junior offices indicated he would like to have his say. The Magistrate nodded to him and gave him the floor.

  “Lieutenant Jerry Sonelsm, Sir. Just back from Kerberos. I served aboard CCS Crusader in the War. Since the surrender, I’ve served on two cruisers and seen action against Zealot holdouts and pirates around Prometheus.”

  The Magistrate nodded at his introduction.

  “Your service aboard Crusader, what did it tell you with regards to our military posture and organisation?”

  He nodded in acknowledgement but then glanced to the highest-ranking Naval commander there, Rear Admiral William Churchill, the only naval senior officer that had fought in the war and come out alive. The Lieutenant looked nervous as he spoke.

  “Crusader was a tough posting, Sir. We fought many battles, and every marine and sailor I served with did their duty. I see no difference between the ships, crews or sailors on either side of the Spacebridge. I’ve had a good career in the Navy, but I saw treachery from politicians, not from the military. Maybe some things could be improved, but I think what we have works. We did win after all, Sir.”

  He sat back down, and the Admiral indicated he would like to add something. He stood but didn’t bother to introduce himself. He was already well known.

  “I respect the comments from the honourable citizens I see before me. My own forces were already on their way to Proxima Centauri when we were ambushed. My force was powerful, very powerful in fact. Even so, my vessels were infiltrated by the artificial intelligence implants we are all now familiar with. After we escaped and joined up with Admiral Jarvis in the Proxima Sector, I was able to experience first hand the debacle of the Confederacy. Petty differences between colonies were settled by the use of local militias and often Regular Army units as well. The Marine Corps I doubt were any more loyal than any other force, but they were independent, due mainly to them being based in space and not in colonies. It was a potent mix and resulted in the Zealots and their allies being able to turn colonial aspirations into a movement that coalesced into the Echidna Union. This was helped at every stage by ambitious politicians with authority in the military.”

  He looked at each of the figures in the room and stopped at Spartan.

  “I would like to know what Lieutenant Spartan thinks of the proposed changes to the structure of the military, and in particular the merging of assets.”

  He stepped back down, and the Magistrate stood and invited Spartan to continue. One of the local governors tried to interrupt but was waved down by the Magistrate, much to Spartan’s amusement. As he stood ready to speak, he thought of the words spoken by Admiral Churchill. He’d never really spent any time around the man, but his reputation in the fleet was well known. He took a few deep breaths and continued.

  “Well, from what I have seen so far, I would say I agree that our armed forces need a chain of command that begins at the top, with the Alliance and the defence staff. A structure that encourages the things we want and not division and infighting. Since the founding of the new Alliance, we’ve already experienced changes, good changes. We now have a strong central leadership and reduced local control. Political office has been split from those military commands, and I am already seeing the benefits of this. It would sadden me to see the names and institutions change, but I can see the merits of merging the Army and Marine Corps into a single fighting unit. The mobility of the Marines, the strength of the Army, and it all backed up with the muscle of the Navy. Regional part-time soldiers will provide a sturdy backup with the numbers if required. I assume they won’t be armed, apart from when on training or being deployed?”

  Marshal Arryne Youtler stood to answer his question and was left to speak. He looked angry, and Spartan assumed the implication that soldiers had played a part in the uprising was a personal affront to him and his organisation.

  “Yes, Lieutenant,” the Marshal started as he stared at Spartan. He’d seen this kind of look before, usually just before he ended up in the brig on some one-way assignment on a backwater world.

  Yes, Lieutenant, my ass. Here it comes.

  “The proposal here is to create a large body of part-timers with basic skills and knowledge but no permanent infrastructure or equipment. You understand this means they will be useless until actually posted to combat units. In the case of a major threat, they could be annihilated before they can even be given a weapon. I cannot disagree more on this course of action.”

  Admiral Churchill gestured he wanted to speak, and the Marshall indicated he could follow from his point.

  “That is true, but we must remember that large numbers of militiamen with access to heavy equipment were part of the problem to start with. I must concur with the Lieutenant here. The short-term power of the military must be professional and one hundred percent accountable to the Alliance High Command, under the auspices of the elected Consul
s acting on behalf of the new Senate.”

  He sat back down, and the hostility in the room was now evident. Spartan had been invited to provide experience from the lower end of the scale, but it was apparent that this discussion was actually just a brawl between those at the top of the military, each vying for power. One of the senators, a middle-aged woman with greying hair, stood to speak. As with other more prominent members of the Senate, she failed to introduce herself. Presumably her reputation was well known but not to Spartan.

  “The Senate appreciates all that you have shown us, and I thank those of you that have made a long journey to assist. The final vote on the proposed changes to the military structure will take place in the next three days. Implementation will be rapid, no matter what decision is made. We have a confusing system at present with substantial duplication of resources and capabilities. Before I call for a recess, I would like to mention one question put forward by Consul Hamis to the Senate. It is a minor detail, but if our ground forces are combined, what is the proposed name to be?”

  Spartan knew right away that this point, probably more than any other, would cause massive trouble between those present. No man or woman would want to see an end to their traditions, and even worse would be for them to be ridden roughshod by one of their competitors. He was certainly familiar with Consul Hamis. He had been the Leader of the House back on Kerberos, and for the last days of the Confederacy had been the Acting President of the remaining colonies. Now the Doctor was one of the two most power people in the Alliance. The new position of Consul replaced the impotent figurehead of President and gave each half of the Alliance a strong individual that could veto the power of the other.

  Politics, I thought they wanted my input. Instead, they spend their time arguing. Nothing changes.

  The Senator remained standing, even though the rest of the Chamber was busy talking, some even shouting. She lifted her hands, and the Magistrate was forced to shout to force them to quieten down.

  “We will have a recess of one hour and then examine the proposals on shipping, weapons procurement and ship dispersal,” said the Magistrate before looking back at the Senator.

  “Was there something you wished to add?”

  The Senator nodded towards Spartan.

  “I would like to speak with the Lieutenant after the meeting, that is all.”

  The Magistrate nodded and brought down her small hammer.

  “Meeting adjourned.”

  * * *

  Spartan waited outside the side entrance to the new Senate Chamber. He’d been stood there for almost fifteen minutes and was becoming impatient. One by one, those inside came out. Some had chatted with him, but most moved passed him quickly, doing their best to avoid eye contact. The door opened once more, but this time it was Rear Admiral Churchill. He stopped and shook Spartan’s hand.

  “Lieutenant, it is good to see a familiar face again. I’m pretty sure you have the same contempt for this kind of horse-trading as I do. You heard the news on the Crusader, then?”

  Spartan shook his head.

  “No, Sir, not since the recovery of the bodies.”

  The Admiral nodded at the mention of the casualties. It was almost as though he had forgotten, or perhaps he was merely trying to forget what had happened to them. He paused solemnly before continuing.

  “Yes, that was a terrible time, but it’s not what I meant. You’re probably aware the Alliance is in the early stages of planning the next series of ships to replace our losses in the war? There are very few ships left in the fleet that are not needing major repair, rebuilding or even scrapping. There are also a lot of people out of work following the collapse of much of the private sector economy. One of the largest Alliance projects is a series of substantial public schemes to repair infrastructure and employ displaced citizens. Military numbers might be going down, but the bases, shipyards and ships will all be improved as part of these civic programmes.”

  He noticed Spartan appeared to be surprised at the news.

  “I know, it seems odd to be doing this when we are still talking about the planning stages. Don’t forget, the civilian government has mouths to feed and citizens to placate. The shipyards themselves need thousands of people to get them back into shape, and people with something to do is the highest priority. As for the ships, right now they’re at the preliminary stages. But to get back to my original point, one thing I do know is they are going to be naming new ships and classes after our losses in the war. Crusader is at the top of the list and will be back, and rumour has it, so will the Admiral.”

  “The Admiral? As in Jarvis?” he asked in surprise.

  “Indeed, the very same. She may have died in the last hours of the War, but her name will live on in the Navy. She won’t be forgotten, Spartan.”

  He smiled and started to move away but turned back to him with a thoughtful look on his face.

  “Listen, you’ve had plenty of experience on our ships. I’m meeting the planners for a short discussion on the new ships’ ideas tomorrow. Interested in coming along? You’ve defended them and boarded them. Your insight could be useful and might give them ideas their researchers haven’t come up with yet.”

  Spartan nodded but then remembered he already had plans for the next day and then even more meetings at the Chamber.

  “Sir, I have a prior engagement with the Jötnar and at least three more sessions here, perhaps another time?”

  “Jötnar? They’re here?” he asked with a mischievous smile. “I can’t imagine that would make them very popular. Well, the comments of the Jötnar would be equally important. I will be working with the planners and designers for the next two weeks. Pop down when you and your comrades have a moment. If you can persuade them to come along as well, I would appreciate it. Changes are simple at this stage, but give it another six months, and we’ll be stuck to the designs.”

  Spartan looked a little confused at all of what the Admiral was telling him.

  “Admiral, I don’t understand. How can we plan or design anything when we have no idea of what our future military will even look like?” he said before realising the door was open, and the female senator was stood just two metres away.

  “Admiral,” she said politely and looked to Spartan. There were only the three of them present as she continued.

  “Lieutenant Spartan, it amuses me that you think this discussion was anything more than a showpiece. The decision was made almost three months ago. This is a mere formality and a face-saving opportunity for those with personal disagreements, mainly in the infantry. The vote in three days will ratify the work that has already started.”

  Spartan looked to the Admiral who was unperplexed at her comments. The Senator continued to speak with a serious and direct tone towards Spartan.

  “But that isn’t what I wanted to speak to you about.”

  She turned to the Admiral who was busy nodding in agreement.

  “Yes, I expect little to change from now till the vote,” he said, confirming what the Senator had just said.

  “I am heading to the engineering department for the preliminary naval design briefing. If you and your comrades could be there tomorrow to provide additional input, I would appreciate it.”

  Spartan saluted to the Admiral who then turned and moved away along the corridor to leave him with the Senator. As he marched away, a pair of marine guards appeared from a nearby alcove and took up position behind him. Both wore their dress uniforms, but Spartan could tell they were wearing light armour beneath the slightly oversized uniforms.

  They’re armed for trouble, I wonder if we’re expecting any?

  His attention was brought back into focus by the Senator who was waiting patiently for him to turn back to face her.

  “We haven’t been properly introduced, Spartan. I am Senator Maria Hobbs and the primary representative of Euryale colony.”

  “Hobbs?” asked Spartan, doing his best not to spit out the name of the Confederate officer who had done so much to
discredit him. She was one of the reasons they had lost so many people, and also one of the traitors that had met their death on this very planet. He hoped to the Gods this senator wasn’t related to her.

  “No, I am not related to the Marine Corps officer. I am well aware of her reputation and of her relationship towards you and your unit. She was a disgrace to the Corps and to the Confederacy. My only regret was that she didn’t meet with an accident when she was on Euryale.”

  Spartan sighed in relief, that was one less thing for him to worry about. He remembered Euryale. It had been a bloody fight both on the ground and in space. It was the event that had nearly cost him his career when after the main fighting. He had left his unit to rescue the Jötnar that were trapped on an enemy ship. It had proven to be the right decision, but Hobbs had ensured he suffered for it. The Senator watched him thinking and seemed almost amused.

  “Yes, she was certainly your nemesis, but I assure you, that is a mere coincidence,” she explained with a smile.

  Spartan relaxed at her comments. It was clear the woman had nothing to do with the other Hobbs. If nothing else, she had a pleasant manner, something the other officer never had, even when things went her way.

  “You are probably unaware that I am running the Select Committee for the Biomechs. The term may be unpopular amongst those with experience of the Jötnar, but it is the catchall for all synthetics. The mutated beasts seen on Prime or the synthetic constructions on Prometheus have been lumped into the same category. Now, I know you have substantial experience with them all, especially their leader, Gun.”

  Spartan smiled at her.

  “That is an understatement. They joined us during the breakout on Prometheus early in the War. Gun is a close friend and an honourable man. His people might not be the same as us, but they did their bit. They never chose this life, but we have a responsibility for them now.”

  Senator Hobbs was a little surprised at the intensity and warmth Spartan had for the creatures. Few in the Centauri Alliance saw them as any more than pet Biomechs that could just as easily turn on them, as help them.