Christopher G. Nuttall
PICKING UP THE PIECES
Prologue
From: The Post-UN Era. Williamson, Mike. Baen Historical Press, Heinlein, 2555.
As you have seen in preceding chapters, the attempt by the United Nations to secure the Colonies and secure control over the entire Human Sphere was terminated when Fleet — then called the United Nations Peace Force — launched a coup against its superior officers. The then-Captain John Walker believed that the war was beyond being won and, in fact, was heading rapidly towards mass slaughter on both sides. Be that as it may — and research on Earth suggests that the UN intended to resort to weapons of mass destruction again — his successful coup against the United Nations broke their power completely. The Treaty of Unity, rammed down the throats of Colonies and Earth alike, secured peace, at a price.
The UN had held hundreds of worlds in its grip, but now that grip was broken. Some worlds, like Terra Nova, collapsed into chaos, ironically secured by members of the former United Nations Infantry, who were no longer welcome back home. Others, like Heinlein, Williamson’s World and New Washington, managed to regain control quickly and even assisted in the reparation of the Infantrymen to other locations. Some even became citizens of the worlds they had tried to suppress.
And Fleet had secured control of space. The remains of the UNPF was still the strongest force operating in space and John Walker dictated peace terms that included a firm guarantee that Fleet would remain supreme, a neutral and disinterested force that would ensure that interstellar war would no longer threaten humanity. The Fleet was, to all intents and purposes, the ruler of the Human Sphere, although it ruled with a very light hand. Fleet was denied any major ground combat element and the vast majority of the former UN Infantry was disbanded. It would never be able to mount a campaign on a planet’s surface. Indeed, the treaty even allowed the development of space-based defences, everything, but jump-capable warships.
The remainder of the UN Infantry were in an unfortunate position. Some units returned to Earth and were disbanded. Others took service with various planetary governments, or were encouraged to settle their own worlds, along with the teeming refugees from Earth. And some became soldiers for hire. Five years after Fleet mounted its coup, there were hundreds of mercenary units operating in the Human Sphere. Some were tiny, composed of only a few hundred men, and some were large enough to qualify as armies in their own right. The most famous of these was the Legio Exheres, the Legion of the Disinherited.
Chapter One
FLEET PROTOCOLS: The general term for the set of agreements governing the level of Fleet involvement on the surface of a planet. Fleet is generally restricted to one garrison and no interference in the government of the planet, regardless of the moral standing of the government in question.
“I’m picking up the beacon from the spaceport now,” the pilot called back, from his seat. “We should be landing in seven minutes.”
I nodded, tensing despite myself. There was no reason to believe that we were flying into a hostile situation, or an unwelcoming committee waited with SAM missiles capable of shooting down a shuttle, but old habits died hard. I looked at the threat board, tracking the Fleet destroyer in high orbit and the Julius Caesar in low orbit, and smiled. The destroyer could have picked us off with its lasers, but Fleet was officially neutral on Svergie. The planet’s internal affairs were none of Fleet’s concern.
“Stand ready,” I ordered, checking the pistol I wore at my belt. The other members of the advance party did the same. The UNPF, which used to make use of my services, disliked people loading weapons in shuttles, but I got to make the rules for my own people and I saw no harm in it. Besides, it the shuttle was shot down and if my some miracle we survived, I’d prefer to have a weapon in hand.
“Nice countryside,” Sergeant Peter Henderson observed, from his seat. I nodded. Svergie was definitely a blessed world, which made all the oncoming war and violence ironic in the extreme. More human wars have been fought over resources than anything else combined. “No signs of actual fighting.”
I shrugged. “The last war never touched here as bad as Heinlein or Terra Nova,” I said, seriously. I’d reviewed all the files I could find after being hired by the local government, but the UN files were half lies and I wasn’t sure I could trust the local files any further. Fleet would have the most modern files, but they might refuse to share them with someone most of the senior officers would consider a mercenary. “They only fought an underground war without any serious battles.”
The spaceport came into view as the pilot ghosted us down towards the surface. It looked fairly typical, but then, most UNPF spaceport facilities looked as if they were designed according to a plan some military bureaucrat had drawn up in a safe office on Old Earth. It was massive, large enough to hold hundreds of thousands of UN soldiers, administrators and servants, but now it looked almost abandoned. The UN forces on Svergie had been pulled out months ago and most of them hadn’t been sad to leave. It had been a hard life on a planet where most of the locals hated them. I doubted that they had left anything, but a caretaker crew, if that. The local government might well have taken over the facility.
“We’re being told to land now,” the pilot said. I tensed again as the shuttle came down and touched down neatly on the ground. It had been a near-perfect landing, although the jokes revolving around shuttles and landing craft generally focused on a good landing being one that you could walk away from. Military humour; you had to love it, or go insane. “Sir…?”
“Power down the shuttle and remain here,” I ordered, as I pulled myself to my feet. Peter pulled a heavy assault rifle out of the rank and slung it over his shoulder. I wasn’t fooled. As casual as he looked, he could still have it ready for action in seconds, perhaps less. “Shall we proceed?”
The scent of the planet, mixed in with the smell of a military base that had been, until recently, operating, struck us as soon as we opened the hatch. I breathed in hints of flowers and ripe corn in the distance, then recoiled as the smell of burning fuel and even hints of burning flesh touched my nose. The reports hadn’t been clear, but the spaceport had clearly been targeted by the insurgents several times, using mortars to strike from a distance. I could see a handful of burned out vehicles in the distance, but otherwise… nobody moved.
“I’ve never seen a base unmanned before,” Peter said, lightly. I suspected he felt the same unease I felt. The sense of something badly out of place kept growing. It had kept me alive in hundreds of engagements and I had learned to listen to it. “There should be ground crews and soldiers on patrol, spacers down from the starships and entertainers wandering around, officers wasting time and…”
“It’s been abandoned,” Muna Mohammad said, tightly. She was my supply and logistics officer. She’d had a strange career in the UNPF before it had rebelled against the UN and renamed itself Fleet, but she came with strong recommendations from John Walker himself. I’d known John briefly while he’d been a mere First Lieutenant. “They’ve probably looted the supply dumps as well.”
“Contact,” Peter hissed. I grabbed for my weapon before realising what he meant and glaring at him. He looked unmoved. Peter had been with me for years and he’d forgotten more about the military than I’d ever learned. He said I was the best UNPF Infantry officer he’d served under, but it wasn’t much of a compliment. The vast majority of UNPF officers couldn’t have found their butts with both hands and a map. “Over there…”