Lieutenant Colonel

by Rick Shelley

  “Gentlemen,” the General said after the formal introductions and greetings were completed and everyone, including Major Zim, was seated, “Colonel Nolan is here at the request of both Governor Sosa and myself. It was Nolan’s company that helped the Bancrofters nine years ago, set up a training program for their constabulary militia, and took part in a successful action against raiders from off-world. In addition, Colonel Nolan has recently returned from an extended visit to Earth, which may offer additional insights into the problem Governor Sosa has come to us with. Governor, I’ll let you take over from there.”

  Sosa nodded, then cleared his throat. “Nine years ago, we were faced with raiders striking our mining camps and communities, stealing refined metals and minerals, and killing many of our citizens. The problem was too large for us to handle without help at the time. We came to Dirigent to hire a company to train our fledgling constabulary militia and to set up a continuing training program we could maintain. During the course of that contract, the raids increased and we negotiated an amended contract to have the company of Dirigenters assist us in a punitive mission against the raiders. That was successful, if more costly in casualties than we all would have hoped.

  “After your people left, our militia had to do some minor tidying up, taking care of a couple of dozen raiders who had not been accounted for earlier. To give us some additional hope for the future, we continued our constabulary militia, raising it in time to two thousand men and instituting a broader scheme to put all young men through basic training to constitute a reserve that could be called on if needed. We also took what diplomatic actions we could, protesting officially to the government of Earth, since the Colonial Mining Cartel, which had financed and supported the raiders, operates under the direct auspices of Earth’s Confederation of Human Worlds. We also made certain that other worlds knew what had happened to us, including the government of the Second Commonwealth on Buckingham and the other Confederation of Human Worlds, on Union. Those alliances each wield considerably more power than any other grouping of worlds, and are in position to perhaps cause some restraint on Earth.” Sosa shrugged. “That was our reasoning at the time.

  “It seemed to work,” he added after a pause. “The Colonial Mining Cartel left us alone, and we received no reports of similar attacks on other worlds. That changed about eight months ago.” Sosa took a couple of sips of coffee, then set his cup back on the table before he resumed his narrative.

  “We still do not have an adequate warning system, not enough satellites in orbit to give us continuous coverage of our near space, and we don’t have the weapons or delivery systems to prevent unauthorized landings. I believe we were lucky to spot one ship that came and shuttled people in. We have reason to believe that there were at least two other ships that we did not spot. The raiding started again within days. Although we had militia garrisons in place at all major targets, it wasn’t enough. Over the past nine years we have managed to expand our mining operations, nearly doubling the number of active sites. We have managed to inflict casualties on the raiders, but they have hurt us worse. We need help, which is why I came here.”

  “How many of these raiders do you estimate there are on your world?” Colonel Demetrios asked.

  “At least four hundred,” Sosa said without hesitation, “though it is possible that there are twice that number, or even more. And they have at least five armed shuttles, of the variety that Colonel Nolan’s people encountered before.”

  “Against your two thousand militiamen?” Demetrios said.

  “When I left, we had twenty-three hundred men in uniform—seven hundred of those, reservists called back to active duty. They are undergoing refresher training now, and should be ready to go into action before I return. After eight years without trouble, the number of active militia had fallen, and there have been casualties, keeping us from reaching the numbers we hoped to achieve.”

  “Colonel Nolan,” the General said, “I had OSI extract everything in the data you collected on Earth concerning this Colonial Mining Cartel and do several analyses of the material. According to the summary they gave me, there is no mention of the CMC maintaining any military or paramilitary force, or doing raiding of the sort that Bancroft has experienced.”

  “No, sir, I’m sure there wasn’t. That sort of material could not be published or archived anywhere I had access to. Reports of government activities are very tightly controlled on Earth. I heard rumors, clearly labeled as such in my reports. Among other things, several dozen army officers have apparently retired to work for CMC. That, in itself, proves nothing. CMC has always been on the lookout for military types to run off-world operations, as have dozens of other companies. There’s nothing implicitly sinister about that. Retired military officers make good management material, or so I’ve been told.”

  That garnered a few chuckles around the table.

  “On the other hand,” Lon continued, “we know CMC was behind the raids against Bancroft nine years ago, and I have no reason to doubt that CMC is likely behind these new incursions. It also stands to reason that they would commit more assets this time than they did before, to try to avoid the same result.”

  “Colonel Nolan, can you estimate the capabilities of CMC?” Colonel Ellis asked. “How large a force could they sustain in operations against Bancroft?”

  Lon hesitated. “In theory they could sustain a force large enough to conquer Bancroft—or just about any other colony world they decided to. CMC is, officially, a private concern, three corporations functioning together under government charter. The corporations have long since lost their individual identities, and much of their initial zones of operation, since most of the Solar System was stripped bare of useful materials long ago. Recycling has never been one hundred percent, so they have to keep looking for new sources. The CMC has become wholly dominated by the old Confederation of Human Worlds based on Earth, so it has—in theory—all the resources of the government to draw on.”

  “You keep saying ‘in theory,’” Ellis pointed out.

  “Yes, sir. Theory and practice. With six billion people on Earth, and another half billion on Earth’s moon, Mars, and around the Solar System, Earth doesn’t have anything approaching unlimited resources. In practice any extrasolar…adventure has to pay for itself in fairly short order, and Earth has to avoid anything so—I guess the word I want is ‘brazen’—that it would cut off the commercial sources of raw materials they can still tap. Those are drying up quickly enough as it is, since Earth can’t afford to pay the prices that, for example, Buckingham or Union can. So the question of how large a force they can sustain on Bancroft, and for how long, depends on how much they believe they can extract from the world. That’s a calculation I can’t make. Perhaps OSI can provide a reasonable estimate.”

  “A rough guess, Colonel?” the General prompted.

  “Unless Earth is prepared to conquer Bancroft completely and bring in additional labor resources, I would guess that they wouldn’t hazard more than the equivalent of a couple of battalions, but please remember, General, that is just the wildest guess, without any hard data to back it up.”

  “General?” Major Zim waited for a nod before he continued. “OSI’s initial appraisal is that Earth would not dare an open invasion. It would totally alienate those colonial governments that still trade with Earth, either freely or under moderate intimidation. This might simply be another raiding mission, on a somewhat larger scale, or it may be leading up to something more. If Earth could put in enough troops to unseat the current government of Bancroft through extended guerrilla operations, they might be able to portray it as a popular coup carried out by dissatisfied citizens of the world, then bring in whatever additional manpower they might need.”

  “Governor, have any of the attacks so far seemed directed more at your forces than at raiding?” General Ruiz asked.

  “Not clearly,” Sosa said. “The raids have always been against mining targets, and where the raiders have carried the day
, they have looted. Of course, if they continue to be successful at raiding, it would eventually have the effect of destabilizing the government. If we cannot protect our people, we aren’t doing our job.”

  The General nodded. “Governor, before we end this session, just what sort of help are you looking for from us?”

  “Our resources are not unlimited, unfortunately,” Sosa said. “We hope to hire at least one battalion of troops, and preferably two, for long enough to help us eliminate the current threat from these raiders. In addition, we would like to hire a squadron of aerospace fighters and their carrier, to prevent reinforcements or resupply from reaching the raiders and to prevent them from getting the metals and minerals they have looted off Bancroft.”

  “Thank you, Governor. That gives us a good starting point. We’ll start the feasibility studies immediately. Our people in OSI would appreciate a few hours of your time, Governor, to help us get all the details we can about the situation. We can resume our talks tomorrow morning, if that meets your approval?”

  Within minutes after the meeting broke up, Lon was called to the General’s private office.

  “I have two questions for you, Colonel,” Ruiz said. “I’m going to impose on you for quick answers, but I’ll want you to consider the matter over the next few days and give me whatever else you can then.”

  “Yes, sir,” Lon said.

  “I’ve only had time to go through the summary of the initial analysis of the material you brought back from Earth. We’re going to be looking at that for months. I have some concerns about this whole matter of Bancroft. We stymied Earth there once. Now, if a contract can be reached, we’ll be going back to attempt it again. The Council of Regiments has to consider the possibility that Earth might turn its attention directly to us if we oppose them in force. My questions are these: How much chance do you think there is of Earth deciding to attack Dirigent? And can they mount an attack in enough force to succeed?”

  “The answer to the second question is easy enough, General. Do they have the ability to attack Dirigent in enough force to succeed? Yes. For every soldier we have, they have hundreds. For every ship we could hold in orbit to defend us, they could attack with twenty. The various military academies on Earth commission twelve hundred new officers every year compared to the two or three dozen new lieutenants we commission.”

  “You don’t sound very encouraging,” the General said.

  “No, sir. One of the first lessons I learned was that a commander has to be prepared for what a potential enemy is capable of doing, not what one believes the enemy might care to do. But there are reasons to think that the practical situation is not quite that dire. There are enough jealousies among the various political divisions on Earth that getting agreement to conduct any major offensive push at a distance would be difficult. And, just as in the case of Bancroft, Earth can hardly afford to mount an operation when they can’t expect to pay for its own costs in fairly short order. They can’t go too far without totally alienating those extrasolar worlds that still trade with them or offer at least lip service to the remaining part of Earth’s Confederation of Human Worlds.”

  “But, short of all-out invasion, they might launch some sort of punitive strike?”

  “That is possible, General. They might hope to scare us off with a show of force, but I’m not certain they would dare to take the risk that we might retaliate in kind. Any attack on Earth might destabilize conditions so much that the planetary government would fall apart and the regional federations and unions go to fighting each other. Again. The political situation back there seems to be quite…delicate.”

  The General leaned back, steepled his fingers together, and stared at them.

  “Off the top of my head, General,” Lon reminded him.

  Ruiz nodded absently. “It’s something the Council of Regiments will have to take into consideration before we decide whether to accept a contract with Bancroft.”

  “It’s worlds like Bancroft that provide us with our livelihood, General,” Lon said. “If we start turning our back on customers, how long will it be before we don’t have enough customers to stay in business? And if that happens, what happens to Dirigent?”

  7

  The Office of Strategic Intelligence provided estimates and analyses of manpower and support requirements, tactical and strategic possibilities, casualty potentials. The accountants provided costing and overhead for various contract scenarios. The primary negotiating sessions took place each morning and lasted up to two hours; Lon was present at each of those. It wasn’t until the fourth meeting, on Friday morning, that Governor Sosa delivered the bomb Lon had feared.

  “We would, of course, want Colonel Nolan to command the force we hire, with as many of the people who helped us before as possible. We know they are familiar with our circumstances, and we have confidence in them.”

  The General explained that units of the DMC were chosen to give everyone equal opportunity for combat contracts and that Lon’s battalion was not due for such an assignment.

  “Nevertheless, I must insist,” Sosa said. “We would waste time learning to trust a new commander, and we can’t help but believe that it would lessen the effectiveness of the partnership between our militia and your people. Since we will be paying for the arrangement, it seems there should be no question.”

  “I’ll have to refer this to the whole Council of Regiments,” the General said, but Lon was under no illusions. If the customer wanted a specific battalion, it would get it. Later, in private, Lon would raise the question of 2nd Battalion’s readiness for a combat contract, the need for another month or two of training, but he knew it would not be enough.

  Lon wasted no time once he got back to his office. He called a meeting of his company commanders and staff officers, and included Phip Steesen.

  “This isn’t final, so I don’t want any word to leak out of this room,” Lon started once everyone was seated in the conference room. “No one in the battalion is going to be drawing fatigue details near term, and we won’t have junior officers tripping off one day a week for whatever secondary assignments they’ve been doing. We redouble our training, and that includes working evenings. There is a chance—unfortunately, a very good chance—that we’ll be going out on contract soon, out of turn. Bancroft wants us, specifically, and even though the contract committee may drag its feet, in the end they’ll almost certainly give in.”

  Lon paused, waiting for objections, but there were none, not immediately. Vel Osterman, the executive officer, stared straight ahead, no emotion on his face; Lon had briefed him before the meeting. Captain Torry Berger, the adjutant, closed his eyes, as if starting to make plans. The company commanders—Tebba Girana of Alpha, Brock Carlin of Bravo, Sefer Kai of Charlie, and Ron Magnusson of Delta—looked around among themselves. Even Phip Steesen kept his mouth shut, though Lon noted that his lead sergeant had his lips pressed tightly together, forcing himself to remain silent.

  “I don’t know what time frame we’re talking about,” Lon continued, “how long it will take to finalize the contract, and how long after that it will be before we ship out, but I want us working every possible minute, and that includes putting in a half day tomorrow—and yes, I know tomorrow is Saturday. Small-unit tactics, Alpha versus Charlie and Bravo versus Delta. Monday we practice combat landings. The intent is to get in three before the day’s out. If we’re here next week, we’ll work half of Saturday again, unless we’re on notice to ship out.

  “Concentrate on your officer-cadets, new lieutenants, new noncoms, new men in the ranks. People who aren’t used to working together. That includes us here in battalion. We’ll be in this as much as possible as well. Brock, Ron, I know this puts an extra burden on the two of you, since you’re both new to your commands. And I’m new in my job, and so is Major Osterman. Ditto for Lead Sergeant Steesen. It’s going to be a bitch for all of us, but better to oil the wheels here than on contract, when we might have bad guys shooting at us.”


  “You’re going to have one hell of a lot of angry men when they hear they’re gonna be working Saturdays,” Phip told Lon after the meeting. “You’d better carry a fire extinguisher, ’cause your ears are gonna be burning.”

  “I know, Phip, but we can’t say anything about why we’re doing it until there’s something signed and sealed.”

  “Even if people start bitchin’ about what a hard-assed new CO we’ve got?”

  “Even then, Phip. I’m not happy with the situation either, not with my folks just getting here. I figured to have several months helping them get settled and meet people before I’d have to think about a contract.” And make up for a lot of years we’ve been apart, he thought.

  Phip turned and started to leave the office. He stopped with his hand on the doorknob, then turned his head back toward Lon. “Bancroft. That’s where we lost Dean. Dean Ericks.”

  Lon nodded. “I haven’t stopped thinking about that since Governor Sosa landed.”

  • • •

  “What about the units ahead of yours in the rota?” Sara asked that evening. “Won’t they raise a fit?”

  “There’s an old saying, ‘The customer is always right, even when he isn’t,’” Lon said. “Sure, some of the battalions ahead of us might protest, but it won’t wash. We’ll take this one, and be pushed that much farther down the list for the next one. We lose out on time at home now and make up for it later. Besides, this might turn out to be a fairly short contract. We’re talking about a three-month engagement, and it could be shorter than that if we can close it out faster.”

  “But you just got home after being away more than six months,” Sara protested.

  “That was something entirely different, not part of the routine,” Lon said. “We knew that before I left.”

  “But…” Sara gave up. She knew she could not change the answer.