Retreat Hell (9 page)

She watched him leave the room, then looked down at the paperwork in front of her.  Somehow, despite her best efforts, it was mutating, forcing her to devote more and more of her time to just filling in forms, reading reports and signing her name to pieces of paper she’d barely read.  No wonder the bureaucratic-minded officers had so much trouble, she told herself; they were so busy doing their paperwork that they had no time to learn how to command their men in combat. 

There was a knock on the door.  Lieutenant Michael Volpe entered at her command.

Jasmine studied him, thoughtfully.  He was a tall young man, barely out of his teens; he’d joined the Knights almost as soon as they’d been established and seen service against the Crackers.  And then he’d joined the CEF, looking for more action.  Jasmine recognised his type and knew, if they’d still had contact with the Empire, that she would have urged him to apply to the Slaughterhouse or a Special Forces Regiment.  There were some men who were never happy unless they were in the thick of the action – which made what she was about to do the wrong course of action.  But it would depend on his plans for his future.

“Be seated,” she said, when Volpe saluted.  “Where do you see yourself in five years?”

Volpe looked surprised at the question.  “I would like command of my own regiment,” he said, carefully.  “I honestly haven’t thought much about the question.”

“Neither did I, when I was your age,” Jasmine said.  She couldn't help feeling old, even though she knew she was little more than six years older than him.  “I have an offer for you.”

She leaned forward.  “I need an aide, someone who can work with me and pass on orders to subordinate formations,” she said.  “It won’t be for more than a year, in any case, but it would give you valuable experience of high command.  If you do well, you would have your chance at commanding a regiment after a little more seasoning.”

Volpe frowned.  “A year?”

Jasmine thought about how the bureaucrats on Earth would have responded to such a suggestion and smiled, inwardly.  But then, one of the innovations the Colonel had introduced that she loved was the insistence that all officers were rotated in and out of the combat or deployment zones.  No one would be allowed to spend too long at the rear, losing their awareness of what they actually needed to do – or what officers at the front required from them.  Volpe would never have a chance to lose his love of a fight ... even if, to such a young man, a year seemed endless.

“Yes,” she said.  “But it will be very useful to your future career.”

She paused, then pressed on.  “The CEF is deploying, as you know,” she said.  “I need an answer within the hour.  If you say no, you will be returned to your unit and nothing more will be said about it.  This isn't something that will be held against you, whatever answer you give.”

There was another knock at the door.  An officer stood outside, holding a plain white envelope.  Jasmine took it without opening it, then looked back at Volpe.  “You have an hour ...”

“I’ll do it,” Volpe said.  He hesitated, torn in two.  “But will there be a chance at action?”

“You never know,” Jasmine said.  Perhaps she should recommend NCO training instead, if Volpe wanted to remain in the lower ranks.  “I’ll speak to your CO.  Gather your stuff, then report back to my office in an hour.  You’re going to be very busy.”

There were, alas, many causes.  One, perhaps the most important one, was that the Empire was truly unimaginably vast.  The planners on Earth could not begin to handle the complexities of one particular conflict, let alone hundreds of them.  They responded by general orders that were often ineffective, backed by threats made against military and civil service officers if they failed to carry them out. 

-
Professor Leo Caesius. 
War in a time of ‘Peace:’ The Empire’s Forgotten Military History.

“The question before us,” Councillor Stevens said, “is simple.  Was the decision to dispatch the CEF to Lakshmibai a justifiable decision,
based on what we knew at the time
?”

She paused. “Hindsight is remarkable clear,” she added, after a moment.  “It tells us precisely what mistakes were made – and when.  But foresight is nowhere near as clear.  We must put hindsight out of our minds and approach the question armed only with what was known at the time.

“With that in mind, we must ask a second question.  Was the decision to hold negotiations on Lakshmibai a mistake in its own right?”

Ed silently gave her points for recognising the difference between foresight and hindsight.  It wasn't something he normally saw politicians doing, particularly when there was an opportunity to make political hay out of the disaster.  But there were several points that had to be brought up, as quickly as possible, otherwise they would be forgotten.

He stepped forward when the Councillor recognised him.  “With all due respect, Councillor, there are several issues with your statement,” he said.  “In particular, it was not us who decided that the talks should be held on Lakshmibai.  It was chosen by Wolfbane’s representatives and we accepted their suggestion.  Had we not done so, it is quite possible that the talks would not have been held at all.”

“But that leads to another issue,” Councillor Stevens pointed out.  “Was it wise to accept their suggestion?”

Ed kept his face expressionless.  Inwardly, he wanted to scowl.  “We had been attempting to open lines of communication with Wolfbane ever since we realised their existence,” he said, calmly.  “Matters were not helped by the degree of ... paranoia Wolfbane showed when we tried to speak to them.  In the end, they proposed Lakshmibai as a compromise – a world where we could talk without revealing more than we chose of ourselves and vice versa.  We were not offered any alternative.”

Councillor Roberson tapped the table for attention.  “Could we not have arranged a meeting in interstellar space, light years from any reasonable threat?”

Ed shook his head.  “Wolfbane gave us no choice,” he reminded them.  “The choice was to hold talks on Lakshmibai or have no talks at all.  We discussed the matter extensively and decided that it would be better to have the talks, even on their terms, rather than risk failing to open diplomatic relations.”

There was a long pause.  “It has been alleged that outside powers – presumably Wolfbane – assisted the fanatics of Lakshmibai to rise up against us,” Councillor Stevens said.  “Do you believe, in hindsight, that we walked into a trap?”

Ed hesitated.  “It’s possible,” he conceded, finally.  “We do believe that the locals had some reason to assume that the starships would be unable to return, either to save us or take revenge for what they’d done.  However, there were a number of oddities about their tactics that suggest otherwise.  For example, man-portable drones are relatively easy to shoot down, even with primitive sniper rifles.  Yet the locals made no attempt to engage them, even though removing them from the battlefield would have blinded us at a crucial moment.  Nor, for that matter, did they move heavy guns into position to shell the Imperial Residency, which would have smashed us flat.

“However, almost all of the planet’s royal family was either killed or knew nothing about off-world contacts,” he added.  “Other prisoners who were interrogated were either too ignorant to know what a starship was, let alone what it could do, or believed their superiors when they were told that the starships were rendered powerless.  The mystery of just who, if anyone, backed the locals may remain unsolved.”

He paused.  “It is possible that they didn't anticipate the deployment of the CEF,” he continued, after a long moment.  “Without it, they would have overwhelmed the Imperial Residency and captured or killed all of the representatives.”

“Which leads to another point,” Councillor Stevens said.  “
Why
was the CEF deployed in the first place.”

Ed gritted his teeth, then pushed on.  “The CEF was designed as a rapid reaction force that could be moved from Avalon to a threatened world and deployed at high speed,” he said.  “I decided that deploying to Lakshmibai would prove a more suitable test of its capabilities than deploying to a Commonwealth world, where there would be fewer surprises for its officers to handle.  We asked Wolfbane if they had any objections and they offered none.  Indeed, they have good reason to be grateful that we
did
deploy the CEF.  It saved their representatives along with our own.”

Councillor Travis leaned forward, threateningly.  “Would the presence of the CEF not have worried Wolfbane, if they are such paranoid people?”

Ed sighed, inwardly.  “The CEF is a formidable force on the ground,” he said.  “But if someone else controlled the high orbitals, it would be rapidly and completely destroyed by kinetic bombardment.  Wolfbane, I believe, decided that it posed no threat to them.  And they were probably right.”

Councillor Stevens tapped the gravel against the table.  “In foresight, Colonel, was there any reason to suspect that Lakshmibai would explode into chaos?”

“There were hints in the files,” Ed conceded, “that the locals were not very fond of off-worlders.  However, there was no reason to believe that the locals would be foolish enough to start a war against two interstellar powers, particularly when the planet’s orbitals were completely undefended.  The war could only end in the destruction of the local government and the victory of the rebel factions, at the very least.  At worst, they would face the complete destruction of their homeworld.  We assumed that the locals would ruefully accept our presence long enough to hold the talks.”

“Which were held in their capital city,” Councillor Travis said.  “Could they not have been held at the former Imperial Garrison or an uninhabited island, somewhere away from the locals?”

“Wolfbane insisted on the Imperial Residency and made arrangements with the locals,” Ed admitted.  “We were not consulted on the decision.”

Councillor Travis smiled at him, humourlessly.  “All of this, Colonel, suggests that Wolfbane set a trap,” he said.  “A trap we walked into with our eyes firmly closed.”

“But the CEF was deployed too,” Councillor Jackson pointed out.  “Why would they have agreed to allow us to deploy the CEF if they intended to capture our representatives?”

“Good question,” Councillor Travis said.  He looked at Ed, his eyes cold.  “Colonel, is there a scenario where Wolfbane would benefit from our deployment of the CEF?”

Ed couldn't stop himself scowling, this time.  “Yes, Councillor,” he said.  “We find them a mystery, but they may well have their own uncertainties about our capabilities.  If they were to watch our deployment – and our response to the local attack – it would give them valuable insights into everything from preferred tactics to training drills.  Should it come down to open war, they would find such insights very useful.”

Councillor Yvette Hanson tapped the table.  “Councillor,” she said.  “Wouldn’t that mean they were prepared to risk their own representatives as well as our own?  We know what happened to most of the prisoners on Lakshmibai.”

She had a point, Ed knew.  If Wolfbane had genuinely planned the whole Battle of Lakshmibai to gain insight into the Commonwealth’s military, they definitely had put their own people at risk.  He would have bet half his salary that the representatives he’d met – and the men he’d fought beside – had had no awareness of any ulterior motive.  But Governor Brown could easily have sent them to Lakshmibai, calculating that he would benefit whatever the outcome.  And, if they didn't know anything about the overall plan, they could hardly betray it to the Commonwealth representatives.

“I see no reason for assuming that a former corporate stooge wouldn't have the cold-bloodedness necessary to send his own people to their deaths,” Councillor Travis growled, crossly.  “I believe that such people are quite willing to do whatever it takes to advance.”

Ed nodded in agreement.

“I believe we have gone as far as we can this morning,” Councillor Stevens said.  “We will resume the hearing after lunch.”

***

Jasmine couldn't help feeling nervous as she walked, in full dress uniform, into the Council Chamber and stopped in front of the witness stand.  Councillor Travis hadn't wasted any time, she had to admit; he’d called the Colonel in the morning and Jasmine, the second-in-command on
Lakshmibai, in the afternoon.  There hadn't been any real time to plan for the hearing, but she’d been told by the Command Sergeant that a full body cavity search would be preferable to being raked over the coals by ambitious politicians.  Jasmine could only hope she was wrong. 

“Please, be seated,” Councillor Stevens said.  “Thank you for coming.”

Jasmine nodded, then sat down, keeping her hands resting on her lap.  She was tempted to look around for her boyfriend, but somehow she forced herself to keep her gaze on the councillors.  Councillor Travis looked unrelentingly hostile, unsurprisingly; the others ranged from supportive to bored.  She waited, patiently, as Councillor Stevens introduced her – purely for the benefit of the record, she suspected – and then asked the first question.

“Brigadier,” she said, “did you have any reason to believe, prior to your arrival on Lakshmibai, that it might be a trap?”

“No,” Jasmine said. 

Somehow, she kept her face under control.  She’d been warned to keep her answers as short as possible, which would ensure she didn't give them any rope to use to hang her.  But she wanted, desperately, to explain that it wasn't the Colonel’s fault. 
No one
had seen the disaster coming until it was far too late.

“I see,” Councillor Stevens said.  “When did you first suspect that there would be trouble?”

“When we landed on Lakshmibai and heard from the Imperial Garrison,” Jasmine said, remembering the odd group of people who’d maintained the base for years after the Empire had abandoned the planet.  Most of them had been delighted to leave.  “They told us that the locals were far from fond of off-worlders.  If the locals had been able to cross the causeway to the island, the garrison would have been lynched.”

It would have been worse than that, she knew.  They’d seen what happened to local rebels who’d been taken prisoner by the government’s troops.  Rape, torture and death was the best they could expect.  And there were still a handful of Commonwealth personnel unaccounted for on Lakshmibai.  Jasmine had her suspicions about what had happened to them, but no sign of them had been discovered before the Commonwealth abandoned the planet completely.

Councillor Travis glowered at her.  “Was there no option for intervening quickly when trouble started in the capital city?”

Jasmine took a breath.  “No, Councillor,” she said.  “Without the starships, we lacked the ability to either land large amounts of troops in the city or provide fire support.  Had I deployed what few helicopters and shuttles I had, I would have risked significant losses which would have crippled my ability to fight.  I believed – and still believe – that fighting my way from the garrison to the capital city was the only realistic option.”

There was a long pause.  “Based on what you saw during your march up,” Councillor Travis said finally, “do you believe that the uprising was pre-planned?”

“I’m not sure,” Jasmine confessed.  “On one hand, there was a sizable number of enemy military units blocking our path to the capital city.  But on the other hand, that region had been unstable for years before our arrival and the enemy needed to deploy vast numbers of troops to keep the locals under control.”

“Locals who might have been able to save our people without risking the CEF,” Councillor Travis said.  “Could you not have merely supported them?”

Jasmine felt her face heat with anger.  “No, Councillor,” she said.  “I do not believe that would have produced acceptable results.”

She pressed on before he could say a word.  “The local rebels, sir, were very much a mixed bag.  Few of them had any proper military training.  Few of them really cared about what happened as long as the yoke of outside control was lifted from their territory.  And few of them fought in what we would consider a civilised manner.  Despite our best efforts, the rebels carried out hundreds of atrocities against captured enemy soldiers and high-caste civilians.  The levels of hatred within their society had sunk so deep that bloody slaughter was the only likely outcome.

“In short, Councillor, we could not supply the rebels with arms and rely on them to capture the capital before the Imperial Residency’s defenders ran out of ammunition.  The only option at our disposal was to take the offensive and secure the capital city for ourselves.”

She felt a twinge of guilt that, she knew, would never fade away.  Even the worst Civil Guard units she’d encountered in her career hadn't matched the Lakshmibai rebels for cruelty or sadism.  There was no escaping the fact that she’d enabled the rebels, armed them and prepared them for war ... or that she bore some responsibility for the atrocities they’d committed against their hatred oppressors.  By the time the CEF had left Lakshmibai, the planet had been dissolving into a bloody mess.  It might be years of blood-letting before a new order brought some semblance of civilisation to the godforsaken world.