The Last Charge

by Jason M. Hardy

  Anson remained at the podium for twenty more minutes, waiting for the crowd to come to its collective senses. Then, abruptly, he walked away, out a back door of the hall, with the wordless shouts ringing in his ears.

  11

  Helmdown, Helm

  Marik-Stewart Commonwealth

  24 April 3138

  “Did I apologize yet for bringing you to a rat hole?” Trillian asked.

  Roderick Steiner smiled. “A couple of times, yeah.”

  “Good. Because in the time I have been here, I have come to truly detest this planet, and I can only believe it will also infect you with its soul-crushing properties.”

  “Don’t worry about it. I’m not here for sightseeing. The countryside doesn’t matter.”

  Trillian pointed at the surrounding mountains as she drove toward the Lyran camp. “Even if you were here for sightseeing, the countryside wouldn’t matter. It’s just that drab.”

  “Honestly, I’m surprised you’re still here,” Roderick said. “There’s plenty of other things going on, especially near the Republic and Combine borders. The reports I got while I was on the way down didn’t make the defenders seem too tough.”

  “Well, their numbers aren’t great, but their position will cause us some problems. We’ve given them plenty of time to dig in while we settled a few things amongst ourselves, so it won’t be easy getting off the mountain and down into the fields.”

  “Couldn’t the Clanners put some pressure on the defenders from the other side? Make the way down a little easier?”

  Trillian’s mouth somehow twisted itself into an S shape. “If the armies were able to work together, yes. But only after some delicate negotiations did I manage to convince each of our armies not to attack the other on sight. That’s the best we can hope for at the moment.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I thought I had them ready to move forward a few days back, but then word spread that reinforcements were on the way. Duke Vedet and Alaric Wolf wanted a chance to size you up before they moved.”

  Roderick looked at the gray rocks climbing into the similarly gray sky. “Am I supposed to be a bridge or something?”

  “No. More like a cushion. Give them some space to operate without coming into contact with each other.”

  “Easy enough,” Roderick said.

  “I hope,” Trillian replied. “The more time we spend here, the stronger Anson Marik can make his defenses on Stewart. This planet needs to fall so that we can get the hell out of here.”

  “Who do we talk to first?”

  “The duke.”

  “Duke Vedet.” Roderick spoke slowly. “Face-to-face.”

  “Is that going to be a problem?”

  “For me and my fist? No. For the duke’s face? I imagine so.”

  “Roderick…”

  “Relax,” Roderick said. “I’m not as dumb as that. We both have our personal feelings about the duke, but punching nobles generally hasn’t proven to be a good way to get ahead in the world.”

  “Then you’ll control yourself.”

  “As much as he does.”

  “Could you go for more than him?” Trillian asked.

  “We’ll see,” Roderick said.

  * * *

  Duke Vedet was quite shiny, from the gleaming dark skin on top of his head to the medals on his chest to the light glinting off his watch. He looked brand-new, as if he had just rolled off the Defiance Industries assembly line. It was a pretty surface.

  Roderick felt his right hand twitch, but he was able to keep from squeezing it into a fist.

  The duke took a step forward, right hand extended. “Colonel Steiner. I’m honored to finally meet you in person.”

  Roderick took his hand and made the handshake as brief as possible without jerking his hand away. “Duke Vedet. I’m glad to meet you as well.” Roderick had thought through a thousand possible greetings, and that one sounded the most honest to him. He was, in fact, glad to meet Vedet Brewster—but because it was always a good idea to size up potential obstacles, rather than because he took any actual pleasure in being in the duke’s presence.

  “Please, sit,” the duke said. The room was as comfortable as quarters in a battle camp got, right down to the red velvet padded armrests on the chairs and the black fountain pen adorning the oak desk. It was likely a step down from what Duke Vedet was used to, but it was far nicer than anyone serving beneath him had seen in months.

  “I was pleased to hear the archon had ordered you here,” the duke said. “Our campaign has been going quite well as of late, and we have an outstanding opportunity to push the Marik forces off Stewart and beyond. The gains from this war will be substantial. Having your troops with us will make the offensive even smoother.”

  Roderick nodded, already fairly certain what the duke really wanted to say.

  “I should point out, however,” the duke continued, “that not everything here is as rosy as it might seem. Your cous—ah, the archon has put us into a tricky situation. When we were on a parallel track with the Clan forces, things worked out easier. Once we arrived on the same planet, there were complications.”

  “So I’ve heard,” Roderick said.

  Vedet leaned back in his chair, his shine making him look like a thoughtful mannequin. “I have not, as you know, been a field commander for very long. There are still things about the experience that are new to me. One thing I’ve noticed recently is there is a tendency among soldiers of all ranks, once they have been in the field for long enough, to start to lose sight of their overall goal. They get caught up in petty feuds and squabbles, and conflicts they might be able to ignore at home become bigger and deeper until great schisms develop within what should be a unified force.”

  Roderick smiled crookedly. Duke Vedet likely didn’t know the whole story of Roderick’s time on Algorab, where Roderick had violated orders of a superior officer, a move that saved dozens of lives. It was a move that could have cost Roderick his career. No one had to tell him about the divisions that sometimes appear between soldiers.

  “Maybe it would help,” Roderick said, “if you told me what you think the overall objective is.”

  The duke’s answer was rapid, almost rehearsed. “The safety and security of the Lyran Commonwealth. That should be the goal of any soldier of our army, wherever they may serve.”

  Even soldiers multiple jumps from the Lyran border, fighting an army that can barely muster a threat against a single city, let alone a Lyran planet, Roderick thought. The threat posed by Anson Marik’s troops seemed distant, perhaps nonexistent, to Roderick, but he kept that notion to himself. This was the war the archon chose to fight, which meant he had to fight it.

  “Are you saying there are some soldiers who have forgotten that goal?” Roderick said aloud.

  “We landed here with soldiers for whom the safety and security of the Lyran Commonwealth is meaningless, if not an outright obstacle to their larger purposes. Naturally, they have been a complication. Forgive the obvious metaphor, but many of my soldiers find it difficult to concentrate on the Mariks with a Wolf at their door. His presence is a distraction, to put it mildly, and it is the sort of distraction that can make people forget what they are supposed to be doing.”

  “It was my understanding that Alaric Wolf had pledged not to attack any Lyran forces.”

  “Yes, yes, and believe me, we are grateful for that assurance,” Vedet said with an empty smile. “But another thing I have learned in my short time at the head of an army is this—there is more to war than the physical battles.”

  Trillian had once explained to Roderick the value she found in acting stupid. You didn’t want to overdo it, of course, but sometimes acting like you didn’t understand someone forced them to explain themselves more than they wanted to. It was then, as your targets danced around on the border of circumspection, that they made mistakes, saying more than they meant, revealing more than they intended. Roderick thought this might be a good time to use that tactic.
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br />   “I thought that was the very definition of war,” Roderick said. “A campaign of battles.”

  Vedet rubbed a hand smoothly over his scalp. “That’s the soldier’s view. But tell me, what do people think of when they think of the Fourth Succession War? Do they think of any particular battle? No, they think of Hanse Davion, and a wedding, and a man who had the balls and the arrogance to give his nation one of its greatest victories ever. That’s why they love him over in the Suns, because of how he waged that war—even more, for the way he started it. For his flair. That war was, and still is, about more than fighting for Capellan territory. It was about Hanse Davion reclaiming his nation’s soul.”

  “So war is about throwing away the lives of soldiers to fulfill the ambition of politicians.”

  Surprisingly, Vedet smiled instead of scowled, and the expression even looked genuine. “Of course! I would never put it so bluntly, but what else could it be? That’s why a nation has leaders, to guide it. To make sure it does not waste its strength fighting an unending series of border skirmishes, but instead to fight in broad and bold strokes that show all people, within and without a nation, the true nature of that nation’s soul! To use those soldiers for worthy ends!”

  “This is getting a little abstract for me,” Roderick said. “I’m here to take Helm.”

  “You are a colonel now, Roderick. You need a broader vision. I don’t need to tell you how much power a victorious military commander can have.”

  “I haven’t given it much thought.” Roderick felt himself sinking farther and farther into his chair, as Vedet’s words and very presence repelled him.

  “Then you are the only Steiner never to have done so. We are going to conquer this planet, Roderick. The real question is what happens afterward. You would be well advised to start thinking of that now, and start planning for it immediately. The real outcome of this battle won’t be our armies beating the Silver Hawks. It will be in how we position ourselves.”

  “I’m afraid I haven’t had time to get skilled in the art of using war for personal gain.” Roderick allowed more scorn to color his voice than he intended.

  His tone didn’t faze Vedet, though. “Then it’s time you learned. You are a commander. The only leaders who do not take time to think about how to maintain their position are the ones about to be deposed.” He stood. “It’s good to have you on Helm. My door is always open, if you would like to come by and discuss any of these matters further.”

  Roderick stood. “Thank you,” he said, but what he thought was: This is the last person I would ever talk to about the larger purposes of war.

  * * *

  Roderick scratched his temple. He had never seen Trillian so put out by landscape.

  “I mean, it’s just so much nothing!” she said as they drove over the road to the Wolf encampment—a road that, thanks to the number of trips that had been made over it in the past month, had grown increasingly smooth. “There aren’t even weeds trying to poke their way through the rocks! The weeds just take one look around, see the dim light, no water, and rocks like ferrocrete and they say ‘No, thanks’ and hop on the next DropShip out of here along with anyone with sense. Except for me, since I have the privilege of staying here and watching two perfectly adequate armies refuse to move.”

  “Three perfectly adequate armies,” Roderick said.

  “Shut up.” She looked out the window. “Just look at this place! Were settlers so desperate for planets that they’d live on anything?”

  “Yes,” Roderick said.

  “Well, they should have skipped this one.”

  “Alaric and Vedet have thrown you for a loop, haven’t they?”

  “What? No! Well, kind of. But that’s not why I hate this planet! I hate it because it’s ugly.”

  The gray rocks outside didn’t give Roderick anything to rebut her claim. “Mm-hmmm.”

  “Fine,” Trillian said. “Act all wise and nonchalant. You’ll see soon enough.”

  “Oh, I’ve already seen. Duke Vedet was as bad as I thought he would be. He thinks war is about career advancement.”

  Trillian’s eyes closed and her shoulders sagged. Roderick felt like he’d just told Trillian she had tested positive for cancer.

  “What?” he said. “What did I say? You already knew he was bad. I don’t think that’s news to you.”

  “No, no. I mean, yeah, I already knew that. But that’s not the problem.”

  “What is?”

  “The problem is that Vedet’s right. About this war, at least. There was no threat here. Not right now. This isn’t a defensive war, or even a war of revenge. It’s a war because we could. Anson Marik has taken a beating lately, and Melissa knew he wouldn’t be able to defend his territory too well. She invaded because he was weak. That’s it.”

  Roderick didn’t say anything for a minute. He looked out the window, but the rocks provided absolutely no distraction. He suddenly understood why Trillian hated this planet.

  “Anson Marik’s not a good man,” he finally said. “Don’t waste your pity on him. He might not have the means to invade, but left alone, he would have. He would have attacked eventually.”

  “That’s what Melissa said. But is that enough? We’re killing people and losing our own. Should we really do it on an ‘if’? Should we wage a preemptive war based on a vague ‘maybe’?”

  Roderick cocked his head. “Self-doubt is kind of a new thing for you, isn’t it?”

  She opened her mouth. Then she closed it. Roderick could see the decision slide over her face. There was something she had thought for a moment about revealing; then she decided not to. “Yes. I guess it is,” was all she said.

  “Okay,” Roderick said. He knew better than to press her when she wasn’t ready to talk. “Maybe talking to Alaric Wolf will help both of us feel better about the justness of our cause.”

  Trillian laughed almost all of the rest of the way to the Wolf encampment.

  * * *

  Roderick was a good third of a meter taller than Trillian, but he was struggling to match her pace. He kept glancing at her to see if she had slipped into a jog.

  “Where are we supposed to find him?” he asked.

  “Who knows?” Trillian said. “I guess he’s grown tired of sitting in his office and talking, so we just have to find him in the middle of whatever he’s doing.”

  “He’s an accommodating sort, isn’t he?”

  Trillian rolled her eyes. “He’s a Clanner.”

  Roderick couldn’t help but be impressed by the order in the Wolf army camp. Their temporary buildings were laid out on a perfect grid, and all the soldiers and support crew he saw walked in quick, straight lines. The soldiers appeared focused and intense. In this camp, discipline wasn’t something the soldiers put on or took off according to circumstance.

  Alaric turned out to be easy to find: usually, if you can’t find a ’Mech commander in his office, you look in the ’Mech hangar. Sure enough, Alaric was walking around his Mad Cat inspecting every inch of it and listening to a tech giving him a rundown of the work that had been done on it. Roderick wasn’t sure why, but he felt a predisposition to like the Clanner as soon as he saw him. His eyes held the familiar arrogance Roderick always associated with Clanners, but Alaric carried himself with the straightforward, efficient movements of a fighter. Whatever faults he might have, it was unlikely that Alaric Wolf was in this fight solely for personal gain.

  Alaric waved off Trillian before she could speak, allowing him to focus on what the technician was saying. He pointed to a woman standing near the ’Mech with her hands on her hips and made a gesture toward Trillian and Roderick. Clearly, they were the woman’s problem for the time being.

  The woman walked over to Trillian and Roderick. She was an attractive blond—or might have been if she could soften the ferocity of her face. She had deep lines around her mouth, as if she had practiced scowling for so long that it had become her only natural expression.

  “The Star colonel i
s occupied right now,” the woman said. “But he expected you. If you wait here, he will speak with you.”

  “That’s fine,” Trillian said.

  Roderick watched Alaric inspect his machine. The Clanner had a good eye and he knew what was important. There were dings and scratches that he ignored, minor flaws in the armor that would not make a bit of difference when the fighting started. But then he’d pause at the knee, or inspect the foot to make sure it would be as stable as possible. Appearance didn’t matter—functionality did.

  Roderick waited quietly. A military background provided exceptional preparation for those times in life when you have to stand still and say nothing.

  Finally, the Clanner was ready to talk. He glanced at Trillian, took a longer look at Roderick, then focused on Trillian again.

  “I had hoped not to have to talk to you again before this planet fell,” he said.

  “War brings about all sorts of unpleasantness,” she replied.

  “I assume this is Colonel Roderick Steiner?”

  “It is.”

  Alaric nodded his head at Roderick. Roderick nodded back. He assumed that was all there would be as far as pleasantries went.

  He was right. “This is your latest attempt to move the battle forward?”

  “It’s a little more than that,” Trillian said. “Roderick is going to move forward within the week, with or without the rest of you.”

  This was news to Roderick, but he knew better than to say anything, or even react to what Trillian was saying. He’d let her play whatever hand she thought she was holding.

  Alaric look a long look at his Mad Cat. “Forward movement would be refreshing,” he said.

  “It’s coming. It’s time to get your troops ready. The only choice you have to make in the next few days is if you’re going to lead the charge against the Silver Hawks or follow once the fight starts.”

  Alaric was silent for an uncomfortably long time.

  “Trillian Steiner,” he finally said. “I believe it is possible that I underestimated you after our first meeting.”