Read Online Martial Law 1: Patriotic Treason by Christopher Nuttall - Free Book Online

to realise was incessant warfare. I asked Lieutenant Hatchet for an explanation, but she clammed up and assigned me other duties until I got the message. There were some questions I couldn’t ask even her.
     
    “Perhaps they’re fighting over religion and the UN is caught in the middle,” Muna said, her dark eyes hooded. I knew little about her origins, apart from the fact that her presence at the Academy hadn’t been universally popular. I couldn’t understand why. She was good company, if sometimes shy and reserved. “Or perhaps they’re fighting against the UN itself. There were people back home who hated the UN and wanted to destroy all the peacekeepers…”
     
    She shook her head. “The UN was the only force keeping the warring tribes apart,” she added. I realised, suddenly, that she could never go home again. The UNPF was her home now. “If it had withdrawn, they would have wiped each other out, but that didn’t stop them mounting attacks.”
     
    “Perhaps,” Roger agreed. He seemed to hesitate. His family connections should have ensured that he had access to more information than anyone else, but on the starship he was cut off from anyone who might have shared information with him. “Or perhaps there’s something else going on. Were they shooting at us, or was it just a target of opportunity?”
     
    I shrugged. “Would they have known or cared who we were?” I asked. It didn’t seem very possible, somehow. “How many Ensigns graduate from the Academy each year?”
     
    Sally snorted. “Perhaps they were so scared when they heard that you three were on your way they decided to set up an ambush to welcome you,” she said. “They might even have intended to put your heads on poles…”
     
    “Don’t even joke about that,” Muna said, sharply. The pain in her voice brought us up short. “It isn’t even remotely funny.”
     
    There was an uncomfortable silence. “They might have wanted the Captain,” I suggested, finally. “Whoever they are…killing a starship Captain would have given them a serious victory.”
     
    “But a victory for whom?” Rolf asked.
     
    We had no answer.
     
    At the end of the second week, the Captain ordered us to set course for Albion, a world only thirty light years from Terra Nova. I’d been expecting some kind of farewell from the planet, but apart from a brief inspection by the Port Admiral commanding the observation squadron there was nothing, not even a goodbye signal. If the Captain felt the lack, he didn’t show it, merely ordering the Pilot to open the wormhole and take us out of the system. I had hoped that I’d be on the helm again, but after the brief encounter with the pirate ship the Captain had decided that the Pilot would handle all manoeuvres in an inhabited solar system. I didn’t mind. I’d had plenty of time to practice in simulators and somehow it felt more real after I’d flown the ship into battle.
     
    There was not, of course, any chance to slack off during the voyage. Lieutenant Hatchet kept us working hard, hammering new skills and disciplines into our heads even as we struggled to master automatic weapons and unarmed combat. I spent several hours per day on the tactical console, learning to master the system, even though I doubted I’d be allowed to use it until I reached Lieutenant, if I ever did. I was starting to realise – no, I’d realised it long ago – that I had been unprepared for duty when I’d boarded the ship and without the extra training, I would probably have been killed long ago.
     
    “But Lieutenant,” I said, one day, “I won’t be allowed to use this console until after I reach Lieutenant…”
     
    “If the ship is attacked, and all the Lieutenants are killed, do you think that the Captain will decide not to continue to return fire?” Lieutenant Hatchet asked, dryly. I flushed. It had been a pretty stupid question. “If I am out of the loop for any reason, the next in line will take over and