Galen looked into the compartment. “You boys settling in okay?”
One looked up and grinned, the other said, “Yes.”
Galen turned back to Karen. “I have something to give you.” He stepped into the next crew compartment and Karen followed and shut the door. Galen pulled her close and hugged her and gave her a kiss full on the lips. She kissed him back and ran her hands up to the sides of his face. He kissed again, held his left hand behind her neck. His right hand reached his combat vest. He pulled out an auto injector and thumbed the cap away. Karen sensed it, heard the cap hit the floor, pushed against his chest with both hands. Galen said, “Hold still,” and pressed the injector against her left buttock. A needle popped into her flesh and dispensed a powerful sedative that would knock her out for a couple of hours. He withdrew the needle.
Karen stepped back and Galen guided her to sit on the bunk. She said, “Why?”
He said, “The boys need their mother.”
Karen slumped onto her side. “Why?”
“When you cashed out of the Brigade to be a full-time mother, you meant it. You’re not in the military any more.”
She said, “Mandarin is my home. I can’t…”
She was unconscious. Galen laid her out flat on the bunk and stretched elastic cords across her to hold her in place for the flight. If Galen survived this war, he’d have a lot of apologizing to do. But not today. He stepped out of the cabin and saw Major Polar with her civilian husband ushering their six children into the cargo area of the jump ship.
“Morning, sir.”
“Marge,” said Galen, “You don’t have to stay.”
She said, “My husband can take care of the kids.”
Her husband said, “True. But I do wish you’d come with me.”
Major Polar said, “I’m three years from retirement. I’d be a fool to cash out now.”
Galen said nothing. Mr. Polar stepped toward Major Polar and gave her a hug. Galen stepped off the drop ship and walked slowly toward the marshalling yard gate. Then he turned and went back onto the drop ship and climbed up the ladder and made his way over the top of the jump point generator and entered the cockpit. The pilot turned and said, “Morning, sir.”
“Morning to you. I have some special instructions.”
“Yessir, prepared to copy.”
“Whatever you do, don’t you dare bring Karen back here.”
The pilot nodded. “You got it.”
Galen patted the pilot on the shoulder and left the command drop ship and walked through the marshaling yard and across the quadrangle to his office. Almost 0500 local time. He was about to open the door of the commander’s entrance when he heard a large number of landing boats approaching the space port. He looked back, turned and stood watching. The unmistakable silhouettes of Capellan Space Force Marine assault landing boats came in hot, a long line of them with barely fifty meters between them nose to tail. They touched down on the tarmac and slid in to park, turned noses to the center of the tarmac and backed up onto the grass, dropped their assault ramps.
Capellan Marines debarked, many on foot with armored vehicles as well. Galen watched and guestimated it was possibly two brigades plus mechanized and armor attachments. Hard to tell with Force Marines, their tables of organization could be ubiquitous. A platoon could be two hundred dismounts commanded by a Corporal while a tank company could be a couple of heavy tanks led by a Major. A command skimmer made its way from the air strip and through the Jasmine Panzer Brigade marshalling yard and approached, drove directly across the parade field of the quadrangle and parked ten meters away, right in front of Galen.
A Capellan Space Force Marine Colonel outfitted in medium powered body armor dismounted and stood in front of Galen and raised his visor and held his hand in a salute and said, “Sir, Colonel Baek reporting as ordered.”
Galen returned the salute and said, “Step into my office.” He held the door for Colonel Baek and followed him in. “Have a seat.” Baek sat on the couch to the left, Galen sat across from him. Baek removed his helmet. A square face, flat eyebrows, high forehead, short black hair, thick neck, dark brown eyes in narrow slits.
Galen said, “Just you?”
Baek looked confused. “I was ordered to report to you. I’m in command of all the Capellan Space Force Marines on or around Mandarin. Five more groups will be landing here shortly.”
Galen took a deep breath, stuck out his hand. “Welcome to my team. How many of you are there?”
Beak shook Galen’s hand, leaned back. “Thirteen thousand. Is that a problem?”
Galen thought for a moment, shook his head. “We have…I can, I can get you settled in. The Corporate HQ building, you can have that for your HQ and command billeting, starting day after tomorrow. In the field, we have downrange training complexes, spacecraft hangars and an air strip. I think so.”
Baek said, “I understand it will take some time. We can live out of our vehicles for now.”
“Sure. Get your logistics people paired up with my logistics people, they’ll work something out. How’s fourteen hundred sound?”
“Sure. Where?” Baek smiled.
Galen said, “My conference room, right here in this building. If I may ask, why are you attached to my brigade?”
“Well,” Baek looked to his right, “Force was withdrawing the troop carriers back to Capella. I didn’t want to leave; I wanted to get on the ground here and fight. Most of the Marines felt the same way. The Capellan Space Force First Admiral decided to drop us before her flight group left and had no time to bicker about it with High Command, so she ordered me to report to you.”
“So…what does that mean?”
“The Capellan Space Force First Admiral outranks everyone on Mandarin and I’m acting on her authority. I’m at your disposal until she says otherwise.”
“I get the feeling it’s your choice to serve with me. Why?”
Colonel Baek said, “Your status as a professional mercenary unit, obligated to defend this planet certainly, but not under the direct authority of the High Command of Mandarin’s military. By placing my Marines under you, we can avoid being the playthings of their arm-chair generals.”
Galen stood. “It’ll take me a little while to adjust. Until then, the marshalling yard and its facilities are yours.”
Baek stood, saluted. “Thank you, sir, you won’t regret it.”
Galen returned the salute. “Dismissed.”
Colonel Baek put his helmet back on and left the office.
Chapter Three
Galen sat behind his desk and stabbed at the command console power button with his left-hand middle finger. The display winked and blinked and a progress bar showed it would be a few minutes before the system would be up fully and secure.
A pounding came at the hallway door. Galen said, “Come in.”
It was Spike. He leaned in and said, “Strat brief at High Command. If we leave now we can still make it on time in a skimmer.”
Galen said, “We? You’re my XO. You stay here. Tell Tad to come with me.”
Tad shoved past Spike and said, “Told you so.”
Spike shrugged and stepped back into the hallway. “Have fun.”
Galen led Tad out the commander’s entrance to his civilian skimmer. Tad got in the passenger seat. Galen brought the blowers up to speed and drove to the compound’s main non-tactical vehicle gate and stopped long enough for the guards to identify him and raise the barricade and log him as leaving the area.
Tad saw the empty streets and said, “Surprisingly calm.”
Galen said, “Locked down, I’ll bet. Mandarin’s government don’t play around.”
An hour later they arrived at the entrance of the High Command’s compound. The high reinforced stone walls were a sandy brown but solid enough to stop a missile. The guard checked their credentials and had them park the skimmer just inside the gate in a visitor parking lot. A shuttle bus came and picked them up and took them toward the center of the c
ompound and into a tunnel that descended gradually for half a kilometer. They got off the shuttle and passed through a security checkpoint and then were escorted through a blast door that stood open just wide enough for one person to step through at a time. Down the hallway seventy five meters and then to the left through double-doors held open by guards in Planetary Defense uniforms.
An alert Regular Army Lance Corporal ushered them to seats in the back row of the theater-like briefing room. Galen looked around and saw about forty Mandarin officers, Generals for the most part. Some Mandarin Space Force uniforms too. Subtle differences in deportment and physical condition indicated that many were reservist, retirees or just plain amateurs. Galen then saw uniform distinctions that confirmed his suspicions. Home guard, municipal defense, civil reserve…but a few full-time professionals. A dozen, maybe, to include a couple of national police commanders.
Tad said, “We’re here with minutes to spare.”
Galen picked up the glass on the table in front of him, set it back down on its coaster. “Yep.”
A soldier came by with a pitcher of water and filled the glass, filled Tad’s glass, continued along the row pouring water into glasses.
Tad said, “You think it’s okay?”
Galen said, “If these people want us dead, this might be the easiest way out.” Galen drained his glass and looked around, motioned for the soldier to bring more. Tad sipped his water.
The Corporal by the door said, “Ladies and Gentlemen, the Minster of Defense!”
Galen and Tad stood along with the rest of the assembled leaders. An elderly Mandarin woman entered. Her dark green uniform draped over her thick frame. Her silver hair was up in a bun and a dainty hat was perched on the top of her head. Her skirt hung just below her knees, dark black stockings holding her calves above her shiny black military style flat-soled shoes. She walked across the stage and stood behind the lectern and laid a folder on it and said, “Hello. My name is General Kahn. Many of you know me as the minister of defense, but an hour ago my reserve commission was activated and I am now the Supreme Commander of all of Mandarin’s military, police and emergency service units.”
She looked around the room, sweeping her gaze across every face. She looked at Galen last, held eye contact for a moment. She looked down at her folder and opened it. “Take your seats.” The assembled leaders sat. “I’ll start off by saying that things are not as hopeless as many of you may believe. We do have resources and a strategic plan that makes sense. Certainly I won’t try to bullshit anyone in this room, you above all others know the threat we face and what resources we have to defeat that threat.”
She removed her hat and let her hair down. “Honestly, I’m sure each of you feels overwhelmed. But we have the privilege of being the defenders, which gives us the home field advantage. Once they expend a resource, it’s gone for good. We can replace our losses, although at a slow rate. When they make a mistake, it costs them. When we make a mistake, we learn from it and do better next time. Do you all understand what I’m telling you?”
Nods, a subdued “yes ma’am” here and there.
She said, “With no more ado, I present Admiral Crowe, our Space Force Commander.” She stepped back and took a seat in one of the chairs behind the lectern.
Admiral Crowe stood from the front row of seats and stepped up on the stage behind the lectern. The display wall behind him showed Mandarin in space with a field of stars behind. Crowe’s black double-breasted uniform jacket had a patch of awards and decorations above his heart. His white slacks had sharp creases down the front of the legs. He cleared his throat and said, “Enemy disposition is arrayed in five main battle groups, any one of which is more than a match for out entire fleet, on its own.” The display showed the enemy fleet formations, five groups arrayed in intervals. The image, taken from a great distance, would look like a blurry string of pearls to an untrained eye. The image zoomed in. Although still a bit blurry, it was possible to distinguish Mosh war ships arrayed in formations.
“We will coordinate with planetary defenses in order to maximize impact on the attacking fleets. Certainly, we will give them more than a bloody nose. Once committed here, their fleet will have a long line of communication to protect, all the way back to their pirate jump point.” He looked to his left, back to the front again. “That’s what we call distant, uncharted, unofficial jump points, because they are commonly used by pirates. But that is neither here on there. We have stealth attack boats. We’ve positioned them at various points out beyond the system where they can take advantage of Mosh logistical weaknesses at some time in the future. It’s dangerous work, in those stealth boats. They remain undetected, using cloaks rather than conventional shields, and they await my orders to strike at and destroy cargo vessels. That will be after the Mosh commit their forces beyond the point of recall, after they have landed more than half of their ground forces. Then we will cut their support.”
Admiral Crowe stepped down. A very fat, short Mandarin General wearing Regular Army fatigues stood behind the lectern. His red face was round and puffy and shiny. His neck seemed too short and his head was stuck at an angle where he seemed to always be looking up.
He said, “Hello. I’m General Kwon and I’m the operations officer of our High Command. I have participated in projections meetings and worked with our plans section and I can give you surprisingly good news.” He pulled a green handkerchief from his left pants pocket and wiped his face, put the handkerchief away. “The only way they’ll be able to make a landing that is not suicidal, is by staging near our planet from above the southern magnetic pole. The southern magnetic field gives them some limited protection from our ground-based weapons, while the northern magnetic pole would enhance our capabilities. Thus we can predict their first move.”
He wiped his face again. The display behind him showed the magnetic fields around Mandarin. “As you can see, the magnetic poles rotate because they are not in line with the rotational axis of the planet itself. Right now the poles are off the axis by nearly two hundred and forty five mils. The Mosh will have a difficult time staying above the southern magnetic pole, having to match the rotation of Mandarin. This will no doubt make them anxious to start their landings as soon as possible. And where, you may be wondering, will they land?”
He smiled and looked around the room. “I do believe I have the answer.” The magnetic fields left the display and the view zoomed in on the planet to show a desert, two thousand kilometers long and fifty to a hundred kilometers wide, the sea to its west for the most part, a high mountain range to its east. “They will land in this desert. This mountain range provides a shadow area for them, blocking the firing arc of our heaviest anti-spacecraft guns from hitting that desert, and the sea to the west offers no stable firing platforms for our space guns, which is why this area presents the weakest part of our planetary defense space-gun network.” General Kwon stepped down and a Home Guard general stood up behind the lectern.
“Hello, my name is General Kim and I’ve been given the task of defending the mountain range against the Mosh landings as well as holding the line against their initial attempts to break out. I do understand that my task is to inflict maximum casualties against them as they land and delay their breakout for as long as possible. I’m realistic enough to know I will not stop them, and that my units will suffer heavy losses. But I accept this task willingly and I assure you all, you will not be disappointed. I only ask that you make the most of the time I give you to prepare to defeat these Mosh in the ensuing maneuver battle. Thank you.” General Kim stepped down.
Galen stared at a large town that was east of the northern end of the mountain range, a small city with a space port. He knew the Mosh would want to capture it and silence its space guns and seize its space port facilities. Galen said nothing, not wanting to point out the obvious to a room full of Generals. Certainly, someone in the High Command would figure out that holding that town would be important.
The Supreme Commander
stood again and said, “That’s all we have for now. Good luck and God bless you all. You are dismissed.”
Tad and Galen sat and waited for the room to clear out, meandered out and waited for the shuttle to take them back to Galen’s skimmer. They left the compound and encountered light traffic on the way back to the Jasmine Panzer Brigade compound. Tad said, “The situation’s not as bad as I thought.”
Galen said, “Sure. Not that bad.”
Chapter Four
The Mosh High Chief stared out the view port of his ready room, stared at the point of light that was still small but larger and brighter than any other object out there. The shiny black chain mail he wore over his dark gray wool shirt had a ten centimeter wide sash of leather over it, across his right shoulder to his left hip, where an Ulfberht sword hung in its sheath. He also wore dark brown leather pants tucked into his high black warrior boots. His two hundred and thirty centimeter height was imposing, topped off with long gray hair pulled back in a low pony tail. As he squinted his blue eyes, his ruddy face wrinkled a bit around his full gray beard and mustache. He could see the tiny orb to the left of its star, the planet Mandarin. A familiar warning tone sounded, not too loud but high-pitched and sustained. He gripped the edge of the viewport and held on firmly. Gravity became zero as the ship stopped accelerating and then the ship flipped end over end and gravity went back to one G as the ship decelerated. The warning tone stopped. The planet he would conquer was now to the right of its sun.
A pale gray gas giant was creeping into view. Once past it, they could begin maneuvering into position to attack their new world. He stepped back from the view port and turned. He stepped around his desk and toward the door of his quarters. The door slid aside and he stepped onto the bridge of his flag ship. Three warriors looked up. The Mosh High Chief bellowed, “Carry on!” and left the bridge and strode down the hallway behind and entered the briefing room. Five Clan Chiefs were there with their seconds-in-command, seated. They stood when he entered. “Sit down.” They sat. Two were his sons. The other three were his nephews.
The War for Profit Series Omnibus Page 87
