The War for Profit Series Omnibus (38 page)

By then the infantry had the rest of the Legion disarmed and bound. At the hasty casualty collection point, about three dozen Legion soldiers received first aid. There were sixteen bodies immobile, zipped up in human remains collection bags.

Galen looked at the Legion commander. “Okay. How do you want to play this?”

“Exchange,” he said.

“What have you got?”

“Our equipment. Replace a few blown fuses, bang out a few dents, replace the ruined batteries of the battle suits, they’ll be good as new.”

Galen stifled a laugh. As much as he wanted to laugh, he knew it would antagonize the Legion commander and make him less cooperative, and that could cut into profits. Plus, their unit motto was
Death Before Dishonor
. With no sensors around to record what happened next, if the Legion decided to get suicidal and fight to the death under these conditions, it would be very hard to convince a review board an atrocity had not taken place.

Galen took a deep breath and said, “Look. You are the Twelfth Legion of Doom. Maybe the other eleven Legions will pitch in to buy your way out of this. If you agree to leave this planet in less than three days, I’ll take standard exchange rates for your people, plus fair salvage value for your equipment, less damages. I’ll also cover the death benefit for your fallen comrades.”

The legion commander looked down. “This is it. There are no other Legions of Doom. ‘Twelfth’ just sounds good, the way it rolls of the tongue.”

Sevin said, “You’re new at this, aren’t you.”

“Yes.”

Galen said, “We’ll work something out. I’ll set you down with the Director; I’m sure there is something you can do for him, for which he’ll pay.”

A team from Chief Polar’s detachment came and got the Legion commander and walked him over to one of the non-tactical troop transport vehicles and crammed him inside with about fifty of his troops. Galen and Sevin walked back to Stone’s tank and climbed on top. Galen got back in the loader’s hatch and put the machine gun back in its swivel.

Galen told Stone, “Let’s go home. Back to the Crater.”

Galen stood at the podium at the top of the tunnel and read aloud from the citation orders. “For gallantry and service beyond the call of duty, for participation in an operation of overwhelming success where the opponent was completely defeated in every sense of the word, and with no significant injuries, and no deaths amongst Jasmine Panzer Brigade personnel, I hereby award the Commendation Medal to…well, there are nine hundred and six names on the list. Swing by here and I’ll hand you your medal.”

Galen stepped down from the stand and stood in front of the formation.

The group of soldiers stood in a block formation, Sevin in front of them. He executed an about face and gave the commands, “Right, face! File from the left, column left! At ease, March!”

The lead soldier peeled off left from the front rank, the rest following to form a line that led to Galen, who gave each soldier a handshake and a fifty gram gold coin with the unit crest stamped on one side, the words ‘Operation Short Circuit’ stamped around it, and the EugeneX corporate logo on the other. After receiving the coin, each troop left the area to return to normal duties. The last soldier to come through the line was Karen. Stone faced, she took the coin and slipped it in her pocket. The hint of a smile crossed her lips as she turned and walked away.

Galen massaged his hand and looked back at Spike.

Spike had been reaching into a box on the stand, handing coins to Galen as the troops filed by. “One coin left. Stick it in your pocket.”

Galen took it. “Well that was really nice of EugeneX to provide these coins. They are definitely not cheap.”

Spike said, “The director is coming up top to talk to that Legion clown and wants us there. We have time for a bag lunch.”

“Let’s ride over to the EPW camp and eat in front of them, so they can see us eat the same crap they get. Good for morale.”

“Roger.” Spike got in the driver’s seat of the skimmer, Galen got in beside him. When the fans came up to speed and the vehicle rose, the laser gunner woke up and stood behind the weapon. They travelled straight out away from the crater for twelve kilometers and stopped outside the main gate of the Legion EPW compound. An unimpressive single strand of concertina wire encircled the EPW camp, which consisted of a bring-your-own-bucket-of-water shower house and a covered eating area surrounded by twelve slap-together cheap tin shacks erected right on the dirt. The latrine was a latrine indeed. Lined with corrugated metal bent to fit, it was a five meter long trench a meter deep and ten centimeters wide with canvas erected around it on metal poles to provide screening from view. It drained, along with the shower house, into a cesspool about a hundred meters outside the wire, down wind most of the time.

The main gate was a gap in the wire, where two Panzer Brigade troops sat on a bench under a tarp erected for shade, armed with nothing more than a radio. Off in the distance, a kilometer away, a ground-mobile rail gun stood watch over the camp. Galen and Tad and their laser gunner stood around the bow of the skimmer and ate their field rations, a few of the Legion troops taking a passing interest in their activity.

Galen said, “I hope that Director gets here soon. If I were on the other side of that wire, I’d see this skimmer as a very tempting opportunity for escape.”

Spike looked at his wrist chronometer. “We still have ninety minutes. For something as dangerous as escape, it takes the normal human brain about two hours to see an opportunity, process the information and formulate a plan before taking action.”

The driver patted his side arm and grinned.

Spike said, “That’s just another prize they’d really like to get their hands on right now.”

“Now you’re making me nervous.” Galen walked over to the camp entrance and yelled, “Hey Tribunus. Come on out here.”

The Legion commander made his way to the entrance. Each EPW was issued a pair of shower shoes and a two meter square blanket. He wore the shower shoes on otherwise bare feet and had the blanket draped over his shoulders “What do you want?”

“I’m getting nervous waiting here. Let me offer you a ride, for your meeting with the Director.”

“I want two of my staff present.”

Galen thought about it, and then looked back at the skimmer. “There are only two open seats. You can bring one.”

“No.”

“Suit yourself.” Galen walked away and got back in the skimmer. “Let’s ride. Park five hundred meters away, out of the line of fire for that rail gun, and wait for the director to arrive.”

As they rode Galen said, “No, go back. Park right by the gate.”

Spike turned the skimmer back around and said, “Why?”

“Well, those are our EPWs. Their decisions about any offer made by the Director will be made under duress, and that duress is being caused by us. I want no part of it.”

Spike parked the skimmer. “So what?”

“It’s a moral thing, that’s all. I’m going to cut these guys lose.” Galen dismounted and went to the entrance and called for the Tribunus again.

He came. “What is it now?”

“I’m done with you. You are free to go.” Galen smiled.

“Well isn’t that nice.”

“You can stay here as long as you like, I’ll deliver food and water for another week. And I’ll send you a personal communicator with your breakfast in the morning so you can call somebody.”

“Just like that. A trick?”

“No,” said Galen. “I don’t want you to feel coerced when you negotiate with the director.”

“I see. Very well, call off your dogs.” He turned and walked away.

Galen said to the guards, “Hand me that radio.”

They did. Galen called the rail gun crew. “This is Command Sergeant Major Galen Raper. End of mission.”

After a pause the gun chief said, “Authenticate One Charlie. Over”

Galen looked at his personal communicator and looked up the proper reply. “Zulu seven niner. Over.”

“Roger, Sergeant Major. Gun Three out.”

Galen handed the radio back to the troops and then watched through his binoculars as the rail gun crew turned its turret to the rear and engaged the travel lock. Then the ground-mobile rail gun drove to the gate to pick up the two guards and headed toward the tunnel entrance twelve kilometers away.

The Director’s sedan arrived, driven cautiously over the rough ground. The vehicle tracks it followed made it passable, but just barely, for the civilian vehicle. The Director dismounted, said hello and shook hands with the Legion commander and his two staff representatives. Galen stood back a couple of meters and listened to the conversation.

The Director said, “Gentlemen, I need your help.”

“And how may we be of service?”

“I need to distribute thirty thousand inoculations of our latest product to human volunteers for our first test of this product on human subjects.”

The Legion commander said, “And you want us to do what, exactly?”

“Well, I need you to go back into
Seventh City and re-establish the police force. Then, find the volunteers; provide security for my people administering the serum, and the weekly medical examinations that follow. And we’ll pay the volunteers, and your troops can volunteer as well.”

“And what does this serum do?”

The Director smiled. “It reverses the aging process. It makes you young again. It makes you practically immortal.”

“So for the mission of establishing law and order, how much does that pay?”

The director pulled a note from his pocket and wrote a number on it. The Legion commander read it. He frowned and swept his hand toward Galen. “Why don’t you have them do it?”

“They aren’t welcome in
Seventh City. You have some contacts there already.”

The Legion commander said, “You have a deal. But I need a hard-copy contract before the end of tomorrow, of course.”

“Of course. Transport will come pick you up tomorrow afternoon and take you back to your barracks in Seventh City.” The director shook his hand and got back in the sedan and left the area. Galen got in the skimmer and Spike drove.

Spike said, “What was that all about?”

“Mike hired them to be the police force in Seventh City. He wants to test his latest gene repair thing on the good citizens of that fair city, and he needs law and order to make it happen.”

“Good thing he didn’t ask us, I’d have been very rude in my refusal.
Seventh City can go straight to hell for all I care.”

Galen said, “My thoughts exactly. But this works out just fine. Apparently, nobody else wants the Twelfth Legion of Doom.”

“I kind of feel sorry for them.”

“I don’t. Had it not been for that EMP, you’d probably be sending a message telling my mother how I died at their hands.”

Spike concentrated on his driving all the way back to the hooch in the crater, and Galen read reports and messages on his personal communicator. He also put out the word for a meeting in the conference room, 1600 hours, the whole staff plus Sevin.

***

Galen entered the conference room and took his seat at the head of the table. The staff members were there, seated along the sides of the table, Master Sergeant Sevin seated at the opposite end.

Galen said, “Okay, here’s the deal. We’re just about done here, with five more months remaining on the contract. We’ll need to find something for our troops to do or they will get real bored, real fast, and that means trouble.”

Sevin said, “Close Quarters Battle skills are highly perishable. We can run them through those lanes. And set up some more shoot houses and mock villages, and we can start defensive CQB, and we can shift the emphasis from center-of-mass shooting to headshot shooting.”

Galen looked at Sevin, studying his eyes. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“Yes.”

“Well what is it?”

“I can’t say, because of my non-disclosure agreement with the Bonding Commission. You’d be in more trouble than me if I told you.”

“Okay. So we set up shoot houses and mock villages and play laser tag for the next five months.” Galen looked around the room. “Anything else?”

Karen said, “As much as I’d like to spend my time shooting Sevin in the face, my people have plenty of work to do. First of all, handing the Hellcats off to the indigs, that takes time. Then we’ll be salvaging all that captured Legion equipment. And the job of logistics is just as real for training as it is for combat. People need the same amount of support regardless.”

Galen said, “Well let me put some perspective on this. EugeneX has cooked up a batch of thirty thousand doses of their latest inoculation for human trials and they hired the Doomed Legion to go into
Seventh City and establish stability so that they can test their product on those guys. As a precaution, I want to maintain a sizeable maneuver force outside the crater: the light tank battalion, the mechanized infantry battalion, the cavalry squadron and the recon troop and the Hercules heavy tank company. Plus the Brigade support battalion, of course.”

Sevin smiled. “I like that. We get out of this crater and go tactical. We can put CQB ranges up top and rotate through them between maneuver exercises.”

Karen said, “I…oh, whatever. I like my new apartment.”

Galen waited a minute before speaking. “Okay. Take this slow, take the next two months. Gradually hand off duties to the indigs, to include soldier quarters. Next month I’ll move up top and live in a tent behind my tank. The command center on the mountain, control of that will be handed off last. You all know the deal, transition from the bottom first so none of our people are ever taking orders from their people.”

“Roger,” said Tad. “I’ll be the last one out. We’ll need to put up our own comms satellite so we can operate independently.”

Spike said, “I’ll take care of that. We have a comms satellite with a sensor array on it, packed up in the warehouse right now. The command jump ship can put it in place.”

Karen winked at Spike and looked at her noteputer. “I got it. It’ll be up in seven weeks.”

Tad said, “Why wait?”

Karen said, “The sooner it goes up, the sooner it can be detected. Best to not deploy it until it’s needed.”

Galen said, “We’ll go with that. Now one more thing, and this is very important. No matter how great the drug trials go, none of our people, and I mean none of them, including the bar maids and drinky girls and prostitutes, anyone even vaguely associated with this Brigade having brought them here, no one takes that EugeneX youth serum.”

Sevin said, “I like that, the ‘Youth Serum.’ Funny.”

Karen said, “Why not?”

“I did some checking,” said Galen. “Throughout human history, for tens of thousands of years, researches have been trying to unlock the secrets of eternal youth and immortality. Their attempts have always ended badly, and I have no reason to think this time will be any different. And here we are on a planet called ‘Fuente de la Juventud.’ That translates as ‘Fountain of Youth’ in Standard. That name goes all the way back to a quest by an explorer named Ponce de Leon who, on ancient Terra, lead a mercenary unit to find a fountain whose water was said to make a person young again. That ended very badly for all concerned. We will not repeat the mistakes of history, not on this contract. No youth serum for any of us.”