He looked at the screen again, savoring the words he’d read half a dozen times already. He’d received the first list of orders the day before, mostly new restrictions and initiatives designed to bring the colonials under control. Today’s follow up gave him the means to make it happen. He was granted full executive authority over the planet, superseding all local government. He was authorized to issue whatever edicts he felt were necessary and replace any local officials, even to disband the Planetary Assembly if they opposed him. Most importantly, he was getting the force he needed to implement all of this - 10 regiments of Federal Police, entirely under his command. The first two units had already landed, and the rest would arrive within the week.
He leaned back in his chair, looking through the window into the gloomy dusk. He smiled, thinking about how he was finally going to teach these arrogant Columbians the new order of things. They would learn to respect their political masters. How hard a lesson that would be was up to them.
The streets of Weston were quiet, very quiet, except for the wind whipping around the buildings. A large city by colonial standards, it was still barely two kilometers from end to end, with a number of satellite villages surrounding it. The District, the only section that looked anything like a true city, was less than half a square kilometer, the rest just a belt of mostly two and three story buildings ringing the central area.
Marek walked slowly toward the outskirts of town, his footsteps scraping softly on the wet gravelly surface to the side of the road. The storm was close now, and the clouds obscured Columbia’s two moons. As he walked farther, beyond the lighted streets of the city center, the darkness was nearly total.
But Marek knew the way by heart. He’d traveled this route a hundred times, though never on business as fateful tonight’s. They will all be assembled by now, he thought, ready to do what they must. He hurried his step, though he still moved cautiously, peering around for any signs he’d been followed. They were about to take a bold step, one likely to offer a hard road from which there could be no retreat. He felt no tension for himself. Having decided his own course he was content to follow it through. Once a Marine, always a Marine…he’d faced battle before and could do it again if he had to. The decision was the hard part for him; once that was made it became duty…and he knew how to do his duty.
But he worried for the multitudes that would get drawn into the maelstrom…the colonists, the children, all of them. He’d seen the cost war extracted from innocents before, colonists whose homes had become battlefields, those who’d lived under harsh occupations for years, the 30,000 people who’d called Calumet home before they were vaporized in an instant. The choices he and the others made here would affect everyone on Columbia…and possibly on many different worlds as well. Nothing would ever be the same again.
He turned the corner and he could see the outside lights of the armory in the distance. Columbia had a well-trained and equipped militia. After the CAC invasion, the planetary defenses, including the militia, were massively upgraded to face any future attack. There had even been a full-time planetary army during the rest of the war, though this had been folded into the citizen militia with the coming of peace. Columbia was a prosperous colony, but a permanent peacetime military was still a luxury it couldn’t afford…and one Alliance Gov was not willing to allow. The Columbians knew they had to disband their army for economic reasons, but they still resented being ordered to do it by the authorities on Earth. One more point of contention, just another dry log on the pile waiting for the right spark.
He knew the armory well. The Planetary Assembly had quickly offered the newly-arrived Marek a commission in the militia, as a major commanding one of the Weston-area battalions. He had been reluctant to accept, having just recovered from his nearly terminal wounds and retired from the service. His plans had included a heavy dose of civilian life, at least for a while, but as things worked out, he wasn’t on Columbia for a month before he was trying on a new uniform. He was a little unsettled at the abrupt jump from platoon to battalion command, but that was normal when transferring from a Marine assault unit to the militia. Besides, he figured it was peacetime and he’d have lots of chances to get used to it. Now it looked like he might have less time than he’d hoped.
Marek pulled the signal laser from his bag and fired several short bursts. Pre-programmed with the location of the receiver, the laser was an almost untraceable method of communication. The pulses themselves were invisible in the clean Columbian air, so no one but the recipient would see the transmission. The signal was a precaution; it would insure that Marek didn’t get shot by his own people. Nerves were definitely on edge, and there was no point in taking chances. They didn’t have AI-assisted powered armor with sophisticated friend or foe systems like he was used to; one nervous fisherman turned revolutionary could take him out with an instant of panicked fire.
It was only a few seconds before the response came. Everything was ready to go. Marek swallowed hard, his mind focused on the plan, rekindling senses that had lain dormant since he last saw action. After tonight there would be no turning back.
Chapter 6
Garret looked up through a swirling red haze. His head ached, feeling as though someone had cut a trench through his skull with a dull blade. He was lost, not sure where he was, and his arms reached out, exploring, feeling slowly around where he lay. Slowly his eyes started to focus, the opaque cloud giving way to a few twinkling spots, and in the distance a pulsating bright light, like a sun suspended above his head.
No, not a sun, he thought. Just a light in the ceiling. His memories were starting to come back, though he still didn’t know where he was. He’d been in Kelly’s room at the Willard. He was beginning to remember…she had left for a minute…he was groggy, and he sat down on the edge of the bed. He couldn’t understand; he’d only had one glass of wine with dinner. Yes, it was coming back to him now. He’d leaned back, lying on the bed. Or had he fallen, passed out? That was the last thing he could recall. Now he was here.
“Welcome, Admiral Garret.” The voice came from behind him, and it took his still-disoriented brain an extra instant to process it. “I regret we could not arrange a more dignified arrival for you.”
Garret moved, trying to turn toward the sound. The room shifted as he moved his head, and he slipped back onto the cot.
“I am afraid, Admiral, that you are likely to be lightheaded for a few minutes.” Garret heard footsteps, his companion moving around into his field of view. “Unfortunately, the drug you ingested has a few temporary side effects. They will clear up shortly, and I can promise you that you will be as good as new.”
“Where…am…I?” Garret’s throat was dry, so parched he could barely speak audibly. The man standing in front of him was tall, with dark hair speckled heavily with gray…his age, probably mid-sixties. He wore a perfectly tailored suit, obviously very expensive, though otherwise he was fairly non-descript. “What…happened…to…Kelly?”
“Where are my manners, admiral? Allow me to introduce myself. I am Gavin Stark, and you are my guest.” Stark reached over and slid a bare metal chair closer to the cot. His tone was calm and relaxed. “To answer your first question, we are at Alliance Intelligence headquarters, or more accurately, below it. Sub-Sector B, to be specific.” Stark noticed the startled look on Garret’s face. “I’m afraid Sub-Sector C is a bit more well-known.” Sub-Sector C was Alliance Intelligence’s primary prison and interrogation area, infamous for the brutal methods employed there. “This section is for our more…ah…distinguished guests.” He sat in the chair and smiled. “I can assure you that I have no desire to mistreat you, admiral. It is simply - how shall I put it? - necessary that you be safeguarded for a while.”