Stark’s Crusade

by John G. Hemry

  Breaking out of the buildings of the base should have been a relief, but the soldiers and equipment all around maintained the feeling of claustrophobia. Soldiers were jumping down from the berm, braking their progress by grabbing rocks as they dropped. Some, obviously Second Division troops new to the Moon, had tried dropping the whole way, discovering at the bottom that even one-sixth g could add too much velocity to a falling armored body.

  “Vic, we need ambulances.”

  “They’re shuttling back and forth, Ethan, along with the APCs. Is there any organization at all intact over there?”

  “I’ve got Gomez’s platoon with me in one piece. That’s probably it.”

  “That’s what I feared. I’ve brought up two more battalions and placed Sergeant Shwartz from Second Brigade in charge of the covering force. She’s moving those two battalions out into the dead zone to provide cover. Just tell everybody over there with you to get over here as fast as they can.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Stark triggered the command circuit. “Lieutenant Colonel Hayes.”

  “Yes, Sergeant.”

  “I don’t know exactly where you are, sir. Scan’s being seriously degraded. The situation’s a mess. My second in command recommends we hightail it inside the Colony perimeter.”

  “What if the enemy pursues us?” It was a nightmare scenario, fleeing troops intermingled with enemy forces, so that defenders on the Colony’s perimeter wouldn’t be able to stop the enemy without firing on their own soldiers.

  “Our artillery slowed them a bit, and I’m having two fresh battalions sent out into the dead zone to cover the withdrawal. Colonel, sir, I hate to be pushy, but—”

  “Sergeant Stark, from all I’ve heard you’ve always been pushy. And usually right. Give the order. I’ll accompany the rear guard off the berm.”

  “Yessir. All personnel inside the Mixing Bowl. Get your tails across the dead zone and inside the perimeter. On the double. Anybody who leaves their weapon behind will get to come back here and retrieve it.”

  The traffic over the berm doubled, then redoubled. Shots began falling along the berm as enemy forces braved the artillery to close in. Stark and his escort traded shots with pursuers as they fell back, threat alerts and detections appearing and disappearing like ghosts in the dust-shrouded valley. I don’t want to climb this side of that berm with people shooting at me, even with the dust messing up visibility. But I guess… who’s that?

  An armored figure gestured urgently near the base of the berm. “You guys the last down here?” she demanded.

  “As near as I can tell.”

  “Then get through this tunnel.” The combat engineer swung one arm to indicate a patch of deeper black among shadows. “And make it snappy. I’ll be right on your heels, and I’m blowing it as soon as we’re clear.”

  Stark finally noticed the gapping entrance, hesitating for only a fraction of a second before hurling himself inside. “Stay with me, people!” Even though Stark figured he’d need explosives himself to pry the platoon away from him, he didn’t want to risk anyone losing contact at this point.

  The tunnel was totally black inside. Which made sense, as the Jabberwocks wouldn’t have needed lights. His armor automatically activated the IR sight and a light of matching frequency, revealing rough walls on either hand leading onward into more blackness. Comms stuttered and broke as relays failed or were destroyed inside the Mixing Bowl. Scan shut down, showing nothing but the area right around Stark, the platoon’s soldiers, and the combat engineer urging them onward. The silence, the isolation, would have been eerie under any circumstances, but after the prolonged pandemonium of battle and fighting withdrawal it was almost frightening.

  It seemed to take forever, but abruptly the tunnel curved upward, star-spangled black sky standing out against the dead black of the tunnel walls. Then Stark was standing on the surface, comms and scan active once more, soldiers streaming by enroute to the Colony perimeter.

  “Ethan!”

  “Here. Damn, Vic, you don’t have to yell.”

  “Where were you? We lost you completely.”

  “I took a tunnel out. I don’t recommend the trip, but it did the job.” Stark paused as the combat engineer triggered her charges. A moment later, a long narrow stretch of lunar rock leading away from the foot of the berm bowed upward, then collapsed into a trench as it filled the tunnel. The engineer gave Stark a thumbs-up before trotting off toward the perimeter. “I’m coming in now.”

  “Thank God. Watch out for the enemy artillery. I’ve got mobile defense units in place but they can’t stop everything.”

  A huge beetle shape surged silently past Stark, then came to a halt, its weapons facing toward the berm. “Hey, Commander Stark, mind if I join the party again?”

  “Be my guest, Sergeant Lamont.” The pursuing enemy couldn’t bring armor over the berm, and their antiarmor teams had to have been as scattered by their pursuit as Stark’s forces had been by their withdrawal. The mobile fort the tank represented would be a nasty surprise to anyone following the retreating infantry too enthusiastically. “Don’t stay out here too long, though.”

  “Not to worry. I’ll get my hogs back. There’s a whole grunch of fresh infantry screening us.”

  “Good.” Stark began walking, suddenly feeling too weary to run any more, despite the enemy artillery shells that sometimes made it through the defensive umbrella Vic had improvised over this area. Soldiers and equipment came along with Stark, no one running, just plodding steadily onward. On the flanks, enemy forces along their own front line fired on the retreating forces as well, but since they stayed close to the middle of the area between the Mixing Bowl and the perimeter, few hits were scored.

  Behind, scan reported firing as enemy forces tried to occupy the top of the berm. Lamont’s tanks and the fresh battalion peppered the berm with fire, driving them back repeatedly, then as the stream of withdrawing forces slackened into a small trickle, the armor and the infantry began slowly backing away, taking care to blast away at anything showing itself above the top of the berm.

  Stark kept walking, finally noting with dull surprise that he’d reached the perimeter, scan displaying the comforting symbols of once-again occupied bunkers standing guard along the front. He kept walking a little longer, down a long slope until he reached near the bottom, then stopped and watched visually and on scan as soldiers kept coming. He watched until the last of the withdrawing forces had passed, and Lamont’s tanks and fresh infantry retrograded inside the perimeter, then breathed a silent prayer of thanks. “Vic, you’ll need to provide some marshaling areas for the Second Division people to sort out their units.”

  “Sergeant Manley is setting them up, now. What kind of security should be posted in those areas?”

  “No security. Just escorts to help the Second Division guys find their way around. Okay?”

  “Okay. I was going to say, we couldn’t post enough guards to prevent those official forces from doing something if they really wanted to. We have to trust them.”

  “Yeah. Thanks, Vic.” Stark switched circuits again, finding the simple task unaccountably difficult due to his weariness. “Corporal Gomez, get the platoon home. Thanks, you apes. It’s been real.”

  “Maybe,” Chen noted with a voice that cracked from fatigue. “But it ain’t been real fun.”

  “You gonna be okay, Sargento?”

  “Sure thing, Anita. You apes done good. I’ll see ya around.”

  “Gracias, Sargento. Vaya con Dios.”

  The platoon moved off, toward the rear, its duty done. Stark stood silent for a moment longer, savoring the security of the perimeter and the Colony’s heavy defenses. “This has been one helluva day. Does anybody know where my APC is?”

  About five hours later, fortified by generous quantities of caffeine and an hour-long catnap, he was at a conference room near the spaceport, saluting Lieutenant Colonel Hayes, who returned the gesture with ill-concealed surprise. “Sergeant, I thought you were a
mutineer.”

  “I am. Technically. But not by choice. I render military courtesies when appropriate, sir.” He indicated the others with him. “These are my senior staff. Sergeant Reynolds, Sergeant Manley, Sergeant Lamont, Sergeant Gordasa, Sergeant Yurivan, Chief Gunner’s Mate Melendez.”

  “Yurivan?” Major Kutusov questioned. “There was a case study about a Yurivan in my military legal course.”

  Stacey Yurivan somehow managed to register astonishment. “Must’ve been somebody else, Major.”

  Colonel Hayes nodded to each soldier in turn. “Sergeant Reynolds. That was a fine withdrawal plan you came up with on the spur of the moment. Sergeant Lamont, we certainly appreciated your armor helping cover our withdrawal. And, of course, Sergeant Stark. Your handling of the defensive end of the withdrawal enabled us to concentrate on getting everybody out.” He rubbed his neck, looking around ruefully. “I begin to understand how you’ve done so well defending yourselves. We kept getting told you were a mob led by opportunists. But you’re an army being led by professionals. It’s nice to see what such a force can do. Thank you again for getting us out of that trap.”

  “Speaking of getting out of the trap,” Vic inquired, “have you heard from your commanding general?”

  “Yes. He’s on a Navy ship. He expressed his regret that the Pentagon ordered him to personally evacuate so that the enemy wouldn’t score a propaganda coup by capturing him and his staff.” Bev Manley coughed suddenly to cover up laughter. “The general is… surprised our force is intact and ready to evacuate. He’s left that evacuation up to me. I’ve been in communication with the Navy ships maintaining the blockade. They’ll be sending down shuttles to assist in evacuating my personnel and equipment as soon as they finish coordinating with your anti-orbital defenses. I’ll be going up with our own shuttles in a few minutes.”

  “What about your wounded, sir?” Vic turned her palm unit to show the names listed on it. “We’ve got a fair number of Second Division personnel who shouldn’t be subjected to the extra g’s of a shuttle flight. If you insist on them being sent along with the others we can—”

  “No. Thank you, Sergeant. Leave them in medical. I’ll ask the Navy to have them evacuated when their medical conditions permit.” He paused, looking distressed. “I’m going to be frank, Sergeant Stark. You’ve tempted the hell out of me.”

  “Sir?”

  “I’ve got forces inside your perimeter, you’ve allowed them to retain their weapons, and they’re once again organized. What would happen if I ordered them to seize control, Sergeant Stark?”

  “I’d rather not speculate, sir.”

  “Me neither, Sergeant. That action might make me a hero. Technically. But I owe you all too much. All the soldiers from Second Division owe you.”

  “Thank you, sir. How come your general didn’t order you to try to take us?”

  “I probably forgot to mention to him that we retained our weapons. I’m sure he thinks we’ve been disarmed. In any event, I’ve no interest in repaying you in that fashion. Instead, I’ll see what I can do on your behalf when I get home.”

  “Colonel Hayes, sir.” Vic gestured upward. “You’re likely to be in a lot of trouble when you get home.”

  “Oh, well.” Hayes managed a small smile. “Thus ends my career in a burst of failed opportunities.”

  Lieutenant Conroy entered, saluting. “Colonel, Major, your shuttle is ready for loading. I’ll escort you to the loading dock.”

  Lieutenant Colonel Hayes nodded, then glanced over at Stark. “Good-bye, Sergeant Stark. Perhaps we’ll fight alongside each other again someday.”

  “I’d like that, Colonel. I didn’t know anybody like you got promoted anymore.”

  “A few of us slip through the cracks, Sergeant.” Lieutenant Colonel Hayes saluted again, the sergeants returning the gesture, then he and Major Kutusov left with Lieutenant Conroy.

  “Looks like we did the right thing,” Bev Manley announced.

  “Yeah. Maybe we did.” That night, for the first time in memory, no dreams of lost battles haunted Stark’s sleep.

  “You are one for grand gestures.” Colony Manager Campbell was leaning back in his chair as Stark entered his office the day after the battle to save the Colony and the follow-on battle to save Second Division’s Brigade. “It’s all over the vid. Here and back home. How you broke the robotic combatants who were supposed to break you and then went on to save the official American force when their own alleged allies turned on them. Anyone who doubted your earlier promises not to attack the U.S. has to be convinced now. Are you interested in running for president, by any chance?”

  “Hell, no. I’m a soldier. I don’t get involved in politics.”

  “Too bad. You’d be a shoe in right now.”

  “I thought felons couldn’t run for president. I’m charged with a lot of crimes.”

  “Convicted felons, Sergeant. You’re still okay on that count.” Campbell checked his display hopefully, then shrugged. “There still hasn’t been any official reaction to what happened up here yet, but I’ll let you know anything we find out.”

  “Same here.”

  The reaction, when it came, had Stark and Campbell calling each other simultaneously. “Did you hear?” Campbell asked first

  “I heard the Pentagon’s ordered the disarming and confinement of every soldier from Second Division that we saved. They claim the soldiers are unreliable now.”

  “For their purposes, they may be right.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean the government has declared a state of national emergency. In light of which, the national elections have been postponed indefinitely.”

  “What?” Stark felt his jaw literally drop at the news. “They can’t do that. Can they?”

  “No. They can’t. Even during the American Civil War, national elections were held on schedule.” Campbell sagged in his chair, suddenly looking worn out “This is a naked power grab, Sergeant Stark. The people in power are afraid to relinquish it, and since they know they have zero chance of winning the elections, they’re taking the only action which would protect them from having to relinquish power.”

  “They won’t get away with it.”

  “Who’s going to stop them, Sergeant?”

  “I don’t know. Yet. But I do know something I can do.”

  Campbell perked up, eyeing Stark. “What would that be?”

  “The troops we saved up here have been disarmed, so they can’t participate in the defense of the U.S. Some parties on Earth may figure this would be a good time to take the country out. I want everyone to know that if someone tries that, my troops will be there to stop them.”

  Campbell didn’t hide his startlement. “You’d send some of your forces to help defend the country? Some of our forces?”

  “Uh, yessir. I assume that wouldn’t be a problem with the civil authorities in the Colony?”

  “Speaking on their behalf, I can’t imagine how we could turn you down. But how would you get soldiers back down there? They’d have to get through the blockade and past strategic defenses on Earth.”

  “I’d find a way.”

  “I’m sure you would.” Campbell nodded. “Don’t worry, Sergeant. We have a lot of ways of getting information down to Earth, ways which can’t be blocked. I’ll make sure what you just told me is known to every human on Earth within twenty-four hours.”

  “Thanks.” Stark clenched his hands. “I wish we could do something about this election garbage, too, but we can’t.”

  “No, you can’t. But, Sergeant, there are people who can. We just have to encourage them.”

  A week later, the demonstrations in American cities had grown so huge that large segments of the cities were shut down. Stark and his staff watched vid from back home, marveling at the size of the crowds. “How long can this go on?” Sergeant Gordasa wondered.

  “More to the point,” Bev Manley asked, “what will the government do? They can’t put the demonst
rations down by force. They haven’t got the force available. Besides, they couldn’t justify that because the demonstrators aren’t using force themselves, except for the fringe cases throwing rocks. Everybody else is just marching.”

  Vic nodded. “True. Stacey, do you have anything new about the situation back home?”

  Yurivan smiled. “The economy’s shutting down. How’s that? Heard from your friend Jones again lately, Stark?”

  “Not a word. Why?”

  “Oh, just that the corporate bottom lines are getting nuked right now. It’s all about profits, Stark, and I bet there’s a lot of corporate boardrooms talking about how to get the country working again fast.”

  “Turning over the Colony here wouldn’t help that,” Manley objected.

  “That’s not what I’m talking about. Corporate loyalty is to the bottom line. If they have to jettison a few old friends, friends who happen to hold political office but are fast becoming major liabilities, they just might make an offer for our help. At the very least, they won’t stand in the way of anybody who tries to toss those guys out of office the hard way.”

  Stark shook his head. “I haven’t gotten any offers like that, and I won’t take them if I do. None of our soldiers are going to Washington, D.C., to act against the government.”

  “But sending troops there might be the right thing,” Vic suggested.

  “Vic, we don’t change governments at bayonet point. We never have, and I won’t be the one to set a precedent. Period. This isn’t a military issue.”

  Yurivan smiled again. “I understand we’re planning on sending troops down to help defend the border, though. Have you worked out the movement plan for that?”