“Here we are,” said the Captain, stopping at a door that had a pair of Marine guards standing outside. He presented his eyes to a retinal scan in the wall and placed his thumb over a plate below it that read his print and his DNA at the same time. The panel flashed green, indicating to the guards that he was cleared even as their implants gave them the same information. The Colonel repeated the process and the door slid open.
It looked like any of a hundred other briefing rooms the Colonel had seen in the past. There was a smattering of different uniforms, Imperial Army, Marines and Navy as well as the brown of planetary militia. Men and women were sitting around the table discussing things they were looking at on their flat comps. A couple of officers sat with distant looks on their faces, probably communicating with subordinates on implant com links. Cigarettes and cigars sat smoking in ashtrays next to steaming cups of coffee.
Baggett sneezed as a whiff of smoke hit his nostrils. He thought smoking was a filthy habit. But since cancer was a thing of the past, and even damage to the lung capacity of smokers was corrected automatically by nanites, it was practiced widely.
“Over here, Colonel,” said the Marine Captain, pointing to some seats that were set by the table, directly in front of the holo tank that displayed the blue green marble of the planet. He followed the officer over, noting that the other battalion commanders were already seated, and the regimental commander was sitting near the head of the table, next to a naval commodore. As soon as Baggett planted seat to pad the senior naval officer cleared his throat.
“Welcome to Sestius IV, men and women of the 789th Infantry,” said the commodore, looking around the table. “I am Commodore Chung, the system commander, and I must say we are glad to have you here. We know that you and your troops are combat veterans, and any system would prize such men and women. I will command such of the defense of the system as the navy can mount. I can also assure you that we will be able to call on aid from fleet bases. I cannot assure you when such aid will arrive. Depending on whether the relief force is hyper VI or VII it could be hours to days. That is all I promise. The defense of the planetary surface from whatever gets by us will be your concern. Therefore, I turn you over to the planetary commander, Brigadier General Klein.”
Baggett turned his eyes to the officer sitting beside the commodore. The man he had thought of as Colonel Klein, his regimental commander. That worthy smiled at the commodore and looked out over the table. Another man, wearing the brown of planetary militia with single stars on his collar, glowered at the regular army officer who he probably thought was usurping his command.
“Purely a brevetted rank,” said the soft spoken regimental commander, who looked more like a college professor than an infantryman. “It was decided by the commodore that as we are the largest body of fully trained troops on the planet, and a veteran unit, we would form the nucleus of the provision division we will assemble on this world. And since Brigadier Marquett found both a promotion and a transfer awaiting him on arrival, I got tapped for the position.”
The man smiled at his officers, and Baggett knew the man had to be appreciative of his rise. He knew he would be, and he trusted Klein much more than any part timers that would otherwise be up for the position. Klein was combat tested, and recent combat at that.
“Basically, gentlemen and lady,” said the Brigadier, nodding at the one woman of senior rank in the room, a Lt. Colonel of Infantry that Baggett did not recognize, but whose name flashed on his implant as he looked at her, “we will be dividing up the regiment into three combat commands. Each will consist of a battalion of light infantry, a battery from the regimental artillery, and an engineer platoon, along with part and parcel of the regiment’s air defense assets.”
Blinking lights appeared on the holo globe of the world along with names.
“Willoughby, the capital, will be the center of one defensive region. Canton and Frederick, both regional capitals, will be the center of the others. Each combat command will have attached a company of combat suited Marine heavy infantry and a mixed company of medium and heavy armor.”
“What about the integration of the militia?” asked one of the militia colonels seated at the table, his face set in what looked like a permanent scowl.
“The militia will be attached to the combat commands,” said the newly minted Brigadier. “The Willoughby command will have five battalions of militia plus an allotment of their armor and vehicular units. The other commands will have four battalions of militia along with an allotment of armor and vehicular units. Each combat command will be commanded by the CO of the regular infantry battalion assigned.”
One of the militia colonels raised his hand and looked about ready to choke.
“Yes sir,” said the Brigadier, nodding toward the man.
“Why not put the militia commanders in charge of the combat commands?” asked the man, looking to his fellow brown uniformed officers and getting nods of agreement. “After all, our commands are already regimental size. And we outrank the regulars.”
A few of the Regular Army officers made comments about damned amateurs under their breaths. The Militia Brigadier looked ready to open his mouth, took a glance at Commodore Chung, and thought better of it.
“I do not mean to disrespect you gentlemen,” said Brigadier Klein, looking around the table. “But all of my battalion commanders have just come from an occupation duty that amounted to daily combat. I know how they think and how they will react. Plus, they are being brevetted to the rank of Colonel for this operation. So they are of equal rank to the militia regiment commanders, and in charge due to their Imperial Commissions.”
Damn, thought Baggett, a smile creeping across his face. From major to full bird in less than six months. Even if the rank was temporary, it was still more than he had hoped for many more years to come.
“What about my soldiers?” asked Lt. Colonel Samantha Thomas, commander of the independent medium infantry battalion that had helped to garrison the planet before the arrival of reinforcements. Her soldiers were not the one man tanks the Marine heavy infantry was, but were still more heavily armored and weaponed than the newly arrived light infantry.
“You, my dear, will be a part of my reserves,” said the Brigadier. “Along with the remaining company of Marines, an armored company and the remaining two battalions of militia. You will also need to find a set of colonel insignia for your collar.”
Baggett raised his hand and waited for the Brigadier to acknowledge him. The man looked his way and nodded.
“What about aviation assets, the rest of the artillery and the planetary defense batteries, sir?” he asked. “Will we be assigned any of those assets?”
“No, Colonel,” said the Brigadier. “You will not, with the exception of a command and control bird and a couple of sting ships. We will keep a tight rein on the other aviation assets and assign them temporarily as needed. Planetary defense…”
“Let me answer that question, Brigadier,” interrupted Commodore Chung, “if I may. Planetary defense will be tied into the orbital defense system. We only have a couple of batteries of emplaced lasers and some missiles. A brigade of mobiles have been assigned to us, but only the first battalion has arrived. Does that answer you, Colonel?”
“Yes sir.”
“Do you really think anything is going to happen out here, commodore?” asked one of the militia colonels without waiting to be acknowledged.
“Something can always happen out here, Winton,” answered the commodore. “This is the frontier. If you’re asking if it’s anything we can’t handle, I just say that any pirates that attack us will be annihilated by my small system command.”
The assembled officers chuckled at that pronouncement.
“But if we’re hit by a large task force of fearsome aliens with capabilities beyond ours. Let’s just say we will die in the finest tradition of the Fleet. And then you all will die in the finest tradition of the ground forces. After hopefully killing a lot of the enemy and
protecting the settlers until the cavalry can arrive from other stars.”
“Not really what I wanted to hear,” said Colonel Winton.
“This is the frontier,” said the Commodore. “If you wanted to be protected by armored corps, massive planetary defensive batteries and battleship squadrons, you should have stayed on the core worlds. We run risks out here. Hopefully this will amount to nothing but some panic at the level of command over some snooping or exploring aliens that just wandered into our neighborhood. But we have to be ready in case it is not. That’s the smart way to bet, after all. Instead of betting that it’s just some harmless, peace loving newcomers to the region.
“Now gentlemen and lady,” he continued. “I leave you to figure out how to hold the land fort.”
The commodore rose to leave, and all the assembled officers got to their feet. The Militia officers moved toward each other after the naval officer left, talking in soft tones and glancing at the regulars.
Hope this doesn’t devolve into a pissing contest, thought Baggett, thinking that he would kind of like to have an armored corps on the planet himself. And realizing that he would not get his wish. He had what he had.
* * *
Cornelius Walborski took a puff from the pipe and allowed the sweet smoke to fill his lungs. He felt the buzz of the narcotic herb flow through his body in a rush of pleasure. Holding out the pipe to his wife, the farmer held in the smoke.
"Thanks, honey," said Katlyn, taking the pipe and bringing it to her mouth. She pulled in the smoke, then put the pipe on the table.
"This is really good," she said, sighing her pleasure.
"The market had a really good shipment," said Cornelius. "And our homegrown crop will be ready in a few months."
The cannabis was a mild drug, even though it had been improved over generations. Most people preferred mild and good, and mild drugs were legal in the Empire. Nanotech had eliminated the truly awful effects of most intoxicants. The misery of addiction still existed, especially with the harder drugs that were still illegal, and lucrative.
"I felt the baby kick," said Katlyn, her hand on her stomach and a smile on her face.
Cornelius put his hand on her stomach as he held her close. He felt the baby move under his palm.
"Hope the little guy isn't getting too high," he said with a drug induced giggle.
"Not a hope in hell," said the soon to be mom. "I got a booster of placental nanites the other day. Nothing but nutrients and oxygen will get through those things."
She looked at him for a moment and then looked away, her eyes distant.
"What's wrong, hon?" he asked, putting his hands on her arms and turning her toward him.
"Just that there's been a lot of talk on the net," said Katlyn, tears in her eyes.
Cornelius knew about the rumors that were going back and forth across the planetary news, communications and database service known as the net. All of the citizens were able to access it through their implants. Or, being a free society, they could isolate themselves from it as they wished. According to the net there was a reason that all of the troops were landing recently. The government wouldn't give them a lot of information about what was going on, but rumors were that it wasn't good. There had to be something out here that was scaring the government into redeploying troops. Especially to a nowhere frontier planet with no worth to anyone but the few hundred thousand people who called it home.
"I don't know what's going on, hon," he said, putting his arms around her. "I just know that we're getting ready for something. The militia has been assigned to support the regulars. And the regulars that I've seen are bad mothers. They're fresh from a combat assignment, and they're wolves. I feel that if anything happens we will be in as good a hands as possible. You hear me?"
His wife looked into his eyes as he wiped the tears from them. She nodded her head and gave him a slight smile.
"Good," he said, smiling. "Let's get ready for bed."
Just as the words left his mouth the dogs started barking. He heard some of the livestock making noise. Noise that did not sound good.
"Damned predator got into the fields," he said, getting up from the couch. He reached for a bottle on the table and pulled out a nanocapsule, popping it into his mouth. Shaking his head he felt the intoxication fleeing from his brain as the sober pill took effect and the nanites entered his system.
"Be careful," said Katlyn, concern in her eyes.
He grabbed the rifle by the door and turned back to her as the noise outside rose in volume.
"I will," he said, smiling. "The dogs will be with me out there, watching my back."
Cornelius opened the door to the sounds of his dog pack barking and growling at something that hissed. They're a good bunch, he thought, stepping out into the illuminated night. He had six of the beasts on the farm. All genetically enhanced farm dogs that were much faster and smarter than anything on this planet. Just not as big.
As he ran out to the closest field, where all of the noise was originating, he saw that two of the forty kilo dogs were facing down a quadruped that must have massed over four hundred kilos. The other four dogs were spread out, completing a circle around the beast. One of the bitch dogs limped a bit, and he could see the glistening of blood on her flanks under the floods. He felt a stir of pride as he saw that the native had some liquid glistening on its hide as well. The dogs had drawn blood, and were keeping the animal from hurting any of the cattle that it had come after.
Cornelius knew how to handle a weapon. He had learned hunting in the backwoods of his home world, leading the local Lord’s friends on expeditions. And had learned more after coming to the frontier world. He made sure the rifle was set as he wanted and put the stock to his shoulder. A squeeze of the trigger and the rifle bucked into his shoulder, sending a six millimeter round at six thousand meters per second into the creature. It fell like a poled steer as the round penetrated its skull and destroyed its brain.
The dogs ran up to it and growled, one taking a bite out of the creature's leg and spitting out the flesh, making sure that it was dead. The dogs were too smart to eat the meat, knowing that it wasn't nourishing for them.
Have to pull it out of here with the tractor, thought Walborski, looking at the carcass. Otherwise scavengers would come for it, some as big or bigger than the beast. He patted the heads of a couple of the dogs as they ran up to him, tails wagging. Better than any electronics or defense robots, he thought of the dogs, who actually showed affection toward their master. But you're a fucking buzz kill, he thought as he looked at the dead critter. Shaking his head he started off for the vehicle shed to get the tractor and take care of the mess he hadn't asked for.
* * *
Lieutenant SG The Prince Sean Ogden Lee Romanov sighted in on the target as he readied the projectile. He was aware of his surroundings, where he stood in relation to the target. All distractions were filtered out as he focused. A movement of his hands and the projectile was on its way.
The basketball swished through the net as the Prince shot a perfect three pointer. He trotted over a bit and picked up the round ball as it bounced off of the hardwood floor.
Be nice if there was someone to play with, he thought, looking around the wide rec deck. There were games going on six of the twelve courts on the deck, and a couple of singles practicing shooting on another one. Two of the courts were configured for volleyball. One had a pickup game while the other had some hardcore players practicing setting and spiking. Some of the racquetball courts were also busy, and a couple of dozen crewmen were running the four hundred meter oblong track that overlooked the playing courts.
The Prince looked over at his bodyguards. The two Marines in light armor were conspicuous among the crewmen and women in their workout gear. One Marine stood near the wall by the basket, his eyes constantly roaming the floor. The other stood in the area between courts, her vision scanning the running track.
For the sake of God, I'm on board an Imperial warship, thou
ght the Prince. No one wanted to get near him with his bodyguards intimidating all and sundry. And he wasn't allowed off ship, at least until the Captain calmed down and started treating him like an officer of the Fleet again.
The Prince tossed the ball into a nearby bin and walked from the court, the Marines hustling to get one of them ahead of him while the other trailed behind. He wished he could just order them away, but they were under orders from both the Lt. Colonel in command of the battleship's Marine battalion and the Captain of the ship. They would die before they left his side, and he couldn't wish that on anyone for doing their duty.
"I'm going back to my cabin, people," he said to the guards as he headed through the door out of the rec deck and into a corridor. The guards nodded, one of them subvocalizing into a com link. Sean walked down the corridor until he came to a lift. One of the guards opened the door and made sure that the lift was empty. Clearing the lift, the Marine motioned the Prince on board. The second Marine followed and the lift took off, going up three decks and forward a hundred and fifty meters. The door opened and the Prince headed down the corridor, Marines in tow. As he approached his cabin one of the Marines ran ahead and through the door while the second Marine put a restraining hand on the Prince. First Marine came out of the cabin and motioned all clear. The Prince entered his cabin and the two guards flanked the door and kept watch outside.
The Prince looked around the small living room that he normally shared with another Lieutenant SG. Said Lieutenant had been moved for the moment, leaving the Prince alone. The living room was nothing spectacular to look at with twenty five square meters of area containing a couple of couches, a coffee table, and some shelving covered with mementos and minor works of art. One of the two doors led to his personal twenty square meters of bedroom and his private bath.
The Prince threw himself into a comfortable chair that sat in front of the common desk. Turning on a flat comp, the Prince keyed in an address and waited for a moment while the holo cameras registered his presence. As the flat comp started blinking the Prince looked into the cameras.
Exodus: Empires at War: Book 2 Page 8
