by Dietmar Wehr
Rumors of Glory (Book One of the System States Rebellion)
By Dietmar Arthur Wehr
Copyright 2015 by Dietmar Arthur Wehr
Other Military SF series by Dietmar Arthur Wehr:
The Synchronicity War Series (Part 1 is free)
Introduction:
Rumors of Glory is a 44,300 word novella, that sets the stage for a multi-book series about an interstellar civil war that lasts more than 10 years and takes place in a volume of space that is over 1 million cubic light years in size and includes over 500 inhabited planets. Regardless of whether you’re a fan of space fleets or space marines, you’ll find the kind of action you’re looking for in this series. Rumors of Honor, the next (full length) installment in the series is expected to be published before the end of April, 2015. Underlined words can be found in the Glossary of Terms.
You can join my mailing list here and be notified when I publish new books in this and other series. I would also like to apologize for any inconvenience that cancellation of the pre-order may have caused. I felt I had no choice but to cancel the pre-order when it became clear that I would not be able to have the final version ready by Amazon’s January 21st deadline due to a very painful and debilitating illness. If I hadn’t voluntarily cancelled the pre-order, Amazon would have done it the next day.
Contents
Cast of Characters:
Glossary of Terms:
Prologue:
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Cast of Characters:
System States Union:
Nathan Belloc, SSU Chancellor and President of Sparta
Frank Shaw, SSU Secretary of Industry & Trade
Mandy Sorensen, SSU Secretary for Defense
Mykhel Janicot, SSU Chief of Space Operations
Cptn. Obrist, Aerospace Defense Command Duty Officer
Lt. Ortega,
Cmdr. Yamaguchi, missile boat commander
Cmdr. Grant, missile boat commander
Cmdr. Roland Drake, missile boat commander
Cmdr. Powell, Head of SSU Naval Security
Bret Murphy, former Federation navy officer
Morgan, electronics technician
Cptn. Soroya, freighter skipper
Captain Cate Foster, FED naval officer and SSU spy
Federation of Planetary States:
Admiral Sergei Chenko, FED Navy Chief of Staff
General Frank Masterson, FED Army Chief of Staff
General Jonn Trojan, Head of the Joint Army/Navy Planning Group
Commodore Stacker, FED Navy
Captain Corvosier, Commanding Officer of FED Navy cruiser, Coral Sea
Captain Stevens, Commanding Officer of FED Navy cruiser, Kursk
Captain Korigan, FED Army
Lieutenant Lorelei Remington, FED Navy
Senior Lt. Gus Connor, courier pilot, FED Navy
Sylvia Santiago, Assistant Colonial Secretary
Glossary of Terms:
Kps (Kilometers per second)
Klicks (slang expression for kilometers)
FPS (Federation of Planetary States)
Maser (Microwave version of laser)
HE (High-explosive missile warhead)
KE (Kinetic-energy missile warhead)
SecDef (Secretary of Defense)
CO (Commanding Officer)
XO (Executive Officer)
WO (Weapons Officer)
LO (Logistics Officer)
Prologue:
In the second half of the 21st century, a breakthrough in faster than light technology was achieved. A multi-national organization was set up to explore for colonizable planets. Over the next five centuries, hundreds of suitable planets were discovered, although most were separated by considerable distances. Average transit times between Earth and the colonized planets were 3.4 months. The furthest planets were over eight months away. Due to the uneven distribution of suitable planets around the Earth, most of the colony planets were located toward the center of the spiral arm. Not all the colonized planets were equally hospitable. Some were more attractive than others, and their populations grew faster.
By the mid 26th century, there were a dozen worlds with the same level of technology as Earth and populations of half a billion or more. The organization evolved over those five centuries into the Federation of Planetary States. Due to Earth’s higher population, it continued to dominate the FPS Assembly, which passed laws benefiting Earth-based corporations at the expense of the inhabitants of the planets those corporations exploited. The FPS Navy (referred to by colonists as the FEDs) consisted mainly of lightly armed but unarmored patrol cruisers designed mainly for anti-smuggling and anti-piracy duties.
By 2535, several of the more developed planets began secret discussions to form closer economic ties, with the possibility of a more formal political arrangement. A year later, they and six other planets signed a treaty forming a customs union, along with agreements on technology sharing, mutual investment and the establishment of their own shipping company to compete with Earth-based shipping monopolies. Those shipping monopolies pressured the FED Navy to harass the colonial freighters with frequent inspections and citations for technical infractions. Late in 2537, the heads of the signatory planets met secretly and agreed to form the System States Union and secede from the FPS. The new SSU government, headquartered on Sparta, began to organize itself and its armed forces in secret. Sparta’s newly announced Planetary Defense Force (legal under the FPS Constitution) provided the cover for training the core of the SSU Navy. The plan to take over FED Navy and Army assets was set for day 31 of 2539.
Chapter One
Day 31/2539
It was just after dawn by the time Senior Lieutenant Roland Drake arrived at the System Defense Force gate. The guard at the gate had a grim expression as he waived Drake through, and he understood completely why that was. It was less than an hour until H-hour, the moment when military personnel loyal to the new System States Union would put green armbands over their black uniforms and seize control of all Federation navy and army assets on the planet Sparta. No one knew if they could pull it off without any shooting. In theory they should be able to. Most of the junior and middle officers of the Army’s Tank Battalion, and a considerable minority of the infantry battalions’ officers were part of the conspiracy. With control of the armory and tanks in SSU hands, it should be easy to sort out who among the enlisted ranks were sympathetic to the Cause and who had to be placed under guard. The Navy was a little different. Only one Patrol Cruiser was on the ground, and it happened to be the Yorktown, which Drake knew was only partially infiltrated. The plan was to use a platoon of contra-gravity tanks crewed by SSU army people to surround the Yorktown and force the Federation loyalists to turn the ship over to SSU control. And in the unlikely event that the Fed loyalists tried to use the Yorktown to either escape with a warning to Terra or fire on the SSU army units, it would be up to the Spartan System Defense Force to stop them. That meant that the one and so far only Missile Boat, of which Drake was Executive Officer, and which was only 70 meters in diameter, might have to slug it out with the 300 meter diameter Yorktown. Of course, he thought to himself as he parked his groundcar in the base parking lot, size wasn’t
everything. The Yorktown was hyperjump capable, while MB101 was not, and the Anderman hyperdrive took up a LOT of space on the larger ship. In terms of ordnance, his missile boat was almost equal to the cruiser. Eight missile launch tubes versus ten for the Yorktown, and the missile boat actually had a very thin coating of collapsed matter armor, while the Yorktown had none at all. All things considered, he’d rather be in the missile boat than in the cruiser.
Drake pulled his carry-on bag from the cargo compartment and walked briskly to the SDF Base main building. When he entered, he saw that MB101’s small crew, except for her Skipper, were already assembled in the Ready Room. They greeted him with friendly but serious expressions. Everyone in the SDF knew about H-hour since they all had been handpicked for not only their skills but, first and foremost, for their loyalty to the people of Sparta.
Lt. Davidson, the Weapons Officer nodded to Drake and said, “The Skipper called ahead to say she would be delayed but would still make it here by ah…the deadline and that we should wait for her by the deployment truck.”
“Fine. Let’s all take our gear outside and wait by the truck.”
The vehicle that would carry the crew out to MB101, which was standing over a mile away, was far enough from the main building that they would have a good view of the FED Navy Base, which was adjacent to the SDF Base. When he got close to the truck, Drake pulled his pair of electronic binoculars from his carry-on bag and braced his arms on the truck to take a look at the navy base. As he zoomed in as close as possible, the transceiver in his ear, which was set to the SDF operations frequency, clicked to life.
“NC233 eta is now 5 hours, 45 minutes.”
NC meant Navy Courier, and the approaching ship would be secured after it landed, assuming that no one got off a warning message before then. It was unfortunate that a courier was inbound at the same time the planners had chosen for H hour, but since couriers did not keep to a fixed schedule, it was a case of just plain bad luck. In his field of vision, Drake saw the Yorktown sitting on her landing pad with her main ramp extended and no apparent movement nearby. He turned 90 degrees to look at the Army Base that was also adjacent to the Navy Base. This time he did see movement. Tanks and other armored contra-gravity vehicles were moving around. As he lowered the binoculars, he heard the distant wailing of the Navy Base’s alert siren. That wasn’t supposed to be happening, at least not this early. Something wasn’t right.
Drake turned to the others, speaking quickly. “Everybody climb aboard right now!” Throwing his carry-on bag into the cargo area, he climbed into the cab and looked at the driver who looked back and shrugged, obviously just as confused as he was. Just as Drake decided to use the truck’s radio to call the SDF Operations Center to ask what was happening, he heard the voice over his transceiver again.
“Attention all SDF personnel. Execute Dropkick now! I repeat…execute Dropkick now! MB101 to initiate emergency liftoff!” The order repeated but Drake was no longer listening. He was yelling at the driver to take them to the boat.
In the back, Davidson asked, “What about the Skipper?”
“There’s no time!” yelled Drake. Operations must have a reason why they wanted the 101 off the ground as fast as possible. It only took a few seconds for the truck to reach the boat and screech to a halt, but it seemed much longer. Drake jumped from the truck, reached in to grab his carry-on bag and ran for the boat’s ramp. As soon as everyone was off, the driver took off. Whatever was going on, he clearly didn’t want to be caught in the middle of it out in the open. Drake ran up the ramp and over to the main elevator that would take them up ten levels to the Control Center.
As the others piled in behind him, Drake said, “First stop is the CC! Other levels afterwards! Got that?” He heard someone acknowledge the order.
The elevator doors closed and the ship’s computer asked, “Level?”
Drake answered with, “CC code red!” Immediately the elevator rose faster than usual. So fast in fact that a couple of the enlisted men looked like they might throw up when the elevator suddenly started to decelerate just as quickly. Drake was glad when he was able to get off the elevator and into the CC. Davidson and two other crewmen followed, the rest stayed on the elevator, which took them to their stations on other levels. Drake ran over to the Command Station which Commander Yamaguchi would have used had she made it on time.
He settled into the chair and began to speak. “MB101 Comp, this is XO Roland Drake. As senior officer on board I am assuming command of MB101. Do you acknowledge that I have the Con?”
“Voice pattern confirmed. The Executive Officer has control of the ship.”
“Initiate emergency power up procedures and advise when ready! MB101 to SDF Ops! We are preparing for emergency liftoff. What’s the situation?” With the channel to Operations now open, he could hear background chatter that sounded like a crisis was in progress.
“Ops to 101. Word of the takeover must have leaked. The Navy Base went on alert and we detected a transmission to NC233, which has changed course and is now accelerating away from the planet. We believe it’s attempting to jump away and warn the FEDs. Your orders are to lift off ASAP and intercept NC233. Use all necessary force to prevent it from jumping away. Repeat…all necessary force.”
“Shit.” Drake was being ordered to fire missiles at the retreating courier. Couriers weren’t designed for combat. They were small, compact craft, which if hit by either a kinetic energy or chemical explosive warhead were likely to be critically damaged, with a high probability of fatal injuries to its minimal crew. He had hoped he wouldn’t have to shoot at any former comrades today, but it now looked like he would. Keeping the new System States Union a secret from the rest of the Federation for as long as possible was vital if the SSU were to have any chance of building up its defenses before the Federation could strike back. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware that he might go down in history as the man who ordered the first shot fired in the first civil war the Federation had ever faced after almost 500 years of peace. He put those thoughts aside before speaking.
“Order received and understood. Liftoff is imminent! What about the Yorktown?” There was a pause before the Operations voice responded.
“Status of the Yorktown is unknown at this point. We have unconfirmed reports of small arms fire at the Navy’s main building. Our tanks are on their way to secure the Yorktown and the Base. We’ll keep you advised if the situation becomes clearer. You’re cleared to liftoff. Good hunting, 101!”
“Acknowledge clearance for liftoff. 101 out.” Drake checked the Systems Status Board on his Command Station main screen and saw that most of the major systems were showing the green light indicating ready for operations. When the last red light shifted to green he heard the ship’s computer speak.
“Power up procedures complete. The ship is ready for liftoff.”
“Give me ship-wide intercom,” Drake ordered, and then waited for the two tone signal that a ship-wide announcement was about to be made before continuing. “XO to crew. Stand by for high G liftoff! Intercom off. Computer, liftoff will be at 5Gs! Initiate liftoff now!”
Even with the inertial compensators taking most of the strain, Drake felt himself being pushed down into the padding of the Command Station seat. At 5Gs, the ship would reach supersonic speed in 5.5 seconds. He hoped that anyone out in the open back on the ground had ear protectors on when the 30,000 ton missile boat broke the sound barrier relatively close to the ground. The sonic boom would be deafening. Almost immediately he heard the computer.
“Mach one…Mach two…Mach three…”
When the steel hull started to heat due to friction, Drake said, “Reduce speed to maintain hull temperatures at safe levels, then accelerate back to 5Gs when the ship clears the atmosphere.” He felt acceleration disappear as the ship’s engines put out only enough lift to keep the ship’s speed just low enough to prevent friction heating. With Sparta’s atmosphere almost 100 kilometers thick, it would take the boat over
three minutes to reach space.
After checking to make sure that all systems were functioning properly, he said, “101 to Ops. Where’s the bogey now?”
“Ops to 101. We’re uploading our data to you now. Bogey has turned off her transponder, so our latest data is based on orbital radar only.”
Drake looked at his main screen and saw it shift to a tactical plot of the space near the planet. The navy courier was accelerating laterally to shoot past the planet as the quickest way to break out into deep space again. Its velocity was just under 400 kilometers per second and Drake knew that a navy courier’s maximum acceleration was 10Gs, compared to his missile boat’s maximum of 5.5Gs. Courier ships were designed to get a message to the destination as fast as physically possible. Of the courier’s interior space, 99% was devoted to power plant, hyperdrive, maneuvering drive, life support, communications and astrogation equipment, with only the remaining 1% available for the use of the crew. She was still over 4.25 million kilometers from Sparta and was now frantically trying to get back out beyond the 5.5 million kilometer hyperzone boundary. Drake manipulated the tactical display and swore under his breath. Interception would be iffy at best. Even though the courier could out-accelerate his missile boat, it had a lot of momentum carrying it towards Sparta. By accelerating laterally, it was trying to convert that forward momentum to a sideways vector, rather than decelerate to a dead stop then accelerate back out in the opposite direction again. Drake knew that his boat’s missiles had a maximum powered range of just under five million kilometers and their tremendous acceleration of 350 Gs would in theory catch the bogey before it broke past the zone boundary. Whether those missiles would be accurate enough at the speed they’d be travelling to hit their target was another matter entirely. By the time they reached the projected interception point, the bogey would be traveling sideways across the missiles’ path, which was exactly the most difficult kind of interception scenario. He’d have to launch his missiles almost as soon as he cleared the atmosphere, and the distance to the target at that point would be over 13 light seconds. The missiles would have to be aimed at the point where the boat’s computer estimated the bogey would be by the time the missiles got there, which meant that if the bogey changed course radically enough and soon enough, the missiles’ terminal guidance radars might not see it in time to adjust their own vectors to compensate.
