The War for Profit Series Omnibus (49 page)

Koa said, “Now watch this, it’s a battle-map replay of the past three years. We can watch all the movements. It’s my favorite part of the brief.”

The playback began. The Tuha massed forces and attacked, the units cut to pieces by Mosh armored counterattacks supported by artillery. The Tuha made no more attacks but set up a solid, static defensive line across the peninsula. Individual Mosh units, brigade-sized task forces, made lunges into the Tuha lines, breaking through and turning sharply one way or another to attack the Tuha lines from behind to break through again to cross back into their own territory. Galen watched, and it was hard to be certain since the Mosh unit markers didn’t have specific unit designations on them, but it seemed to Galen that fresh Mosh units formed up near the factories, made a few training maneuvers, took positions on the line, made three attacks, and then were relieved on the line by other fresh, newly formed units. The relieved units left the line and moved to the Mosh spaceport to board assault boats. The Tuha response to all the Mosh activity was to keep pillow-stuffing more troops into their lines that reformed after the Mosh attacks.

Galen stood and pointed, “That’s barbaric! The Mosh are using them for target practice, live fire exercise training aids.”

Koa stood and watched, thoughtful. “Sir, I think you’re right.”

Sevin laughed. “The Mosh are using the Tuha troops to give their own soldiers a shakedown before deployment. Table Nine training is pop a Tuha. Ha!”

Tad said, “As distasteful as it may seem, the Mosh operations officer is doing one hell of a good job. If he lets the Tuha build up too much strength, they’ll attack and that will disrupt the flow of deploying units. This way, he maintains the initiative and keeps the Tuha cut down to size and he also sends combat experienced units out to their fleet. From their point of view, it’s absolute genius.”

Galen sat down, pondered and then said, “Now how does it look from our employer’s point of view? He thinks he’s involved in a war of attrition and that eventually the Mosh will run out of soldiers before he does. But by now, he must have figured out the same thing we did. So he keeps this war going as a way to hold on to control of his own planet. Thoughts, anyone?”

Koa said, “That explains a lot. The war powers acts on Tuha have stripped ordinary citizens of their liberties, and the government there has implemented extreme measures, all in the name of this war effort.”

Spike said, “Such as?”

“Well, conscription of course, but many of the troops are used on Tuha to keep order. The actual numbers seem appalling, with nearly two million Tuha casualties, but spread over six years and from a planet of over four billion people, that does not justify many of the measures taken by the Tuha government. I mean, they have nearly three hundred million people in their military. And another thing they did was legalize polygamy. Reasoning that since so many young men were being sent off to war, there were too many lonely women, and since it’s a war of attrition, it’s important to keep the birth rate up.”

Sevin laughed loudly and slapped the table with both hands. “That’s right; send the poor young men off to die so the rich old men can knock up the teenage girls. Get me a ticket to Tuha; I’m going to retire there with a harem!”

Galen stood and spoke loudly. “Thank you Koa, that’s all for now. Major Sevin, please, be quiet for a minute.”

Sevin quieted down. Koa took the seat beside him. Galen pressed a couple of buttons on the command chair and then stood in the front of the room to face his staff. The bid for the proposed contract was on the screen.

Galen cleared his throat. “We have a situation here, where the pay is good and the mission low-risk but the employer is… the employer is…”

“Ate up,” said Spike.

“Ate up,” continued Galen. “The requirements of this contract are for us to stand ready as an armored reserve force to repel Mosh attacks that break through their lines in case they head deep into Tuha territory instead of turning back as they have been. We all know that is unlikely and we can go there and just clean our weapons for six months and collect our pay. Why the employer wants us to do that was made clear by Major Koa’s brief. I suspect the Tuha soldiers on Grinder are expressing well-intentioned dissent to their superiors, and our presence will make their troops think twice about rebelling. If it gets worse for the Tuha troops on the line they might lay down their arms and let the Mosh roll right past them en masse, which would leave us as a speed bump just big enough to allow the Tuha Generals enough time to fly out of there alive. We, of course, would not be so lucky.”

Karen said, “So why are you still considering this contract?”

Galen said, “I have an idea.”

“Let’s hear it, boss,” said Spike.

Galen said, “All we have to do is wipe out the Mosh on Grinder.”

“That’s crazy,” said Spike.

Tad said, “From an operational point of view, it’s not an achievable goal.”

Polar said, “We’d need a lot of casualty replacements.”

Major Sevin stood and walked up to the screen and said to Koa, “Put that battle map back up here.”

Koa did. Sevin watched the replay, studying the troop movements and the terrain around the Mosh city. After about five minutes he turned toward the staff and said, “It looks impossible. But I like those odds.”

Tad stood and walked up to inspect the battle map. “Let’s start taking this thing apart and see what it would take to do this.”

Koa said, “Well sir, we know the Mosh use slave labor. The only ones who are free are their warriors, and all they care about is victory or death. Plunder, that sort of thing.”

Sevin said, “Get rich or die trying. That’s how they think.”

“Okay,” said Spike. “So the goal is to eliminate their warriors. The rest of the people on the Mosh side of the line don’t matter, they don’t pose a threat. In that case, the Tuha forces have a numeric advantage.”

Tad said, “We would have to hijack command and control over their forces, and then provide them with purpose, direction and motivation.”

“You got that backwards,” said Polar. “First we get them some good chow, provide some basic logistical support, maybe some combat skills training to get their confidence up and improve their moral. Soon they will be, quite literally, eating out of my hand.”

Galen said, “Okay, starting from there, where we bring our entire brigade and assume command of all the Tuha forces, game out a strategy where we deal the Mosh a complete and total defeat.”

Sevin said, “The employer won’t like that. With the Mosh threat eliminated, his people won’t let him be a dictator any more. They’ll string him up.”

Galen said, “That’s exactly what I want to happen. Really, suppose the Tuha pulled out of Grinder right now. Sure, the Mosh would have a jump point right there that leads right to the doorstep of Tuha. But Tuha can block that point from their side. There is no threat; the Tuha leader likes being the supreme leader of a planetary military dictatorship and is using the Mosh threat as an excuse. We take out the Mosh on Grinder, and the ass clowns running Tuha get what they deserve.”

Karen said, “Aren’t we crossing a line here?”

Galen said, “Just planning ahead. Most likely we’ll just sit for six months and collect our pay. To ensure the Tuha troops on the line do a better job of holding that line, we’ll provide them some chow and some training, maybe a little equipment. But you never know. I’ll have a plan that keeps the Mosh from sticking my head on a pike, you better believe that. But as a farther precaution, Koa, sent a secure comms to Juventud, let Governor Ross know he might need to set up a plan to receive refugees, the Mosh slaves we might liberate on Grinder.”

“Roger.”

Galen said, “That’s enough for now. Break for lunch, be back at 1400 hours.”

Karen and Galen walked from the Brigade headquarters building across the grass of the quadrangle to their quarters, an apartment on the top floor of the Brigade’s corporate headquarters building, for lunch. She made hamburgers and French fries. Galen ate standing at the breakfast bar; she sat on a stool across from him.

“Galen?”

“Yes.”

“When are we getting married?” Karen patted her stomach, still flat.

“When I get back from this contract. Seven months, maybe less.”

“Galen, you’re crazy. You’ll get killed on that Grinder contract and the Brigade will lose its license and forfeit its bond.”

“Could happen. It’s just an idea right now. I’m just playing ‘what if’ with the staff.”

Karen said, “But that employer, how could you consider serving such an unjust monster?”

Galen said, “Wait until you see the contract bid.”

Karen said, “How much?”

“No, I’m not telling you. You’ll have to wait just like everyone else.”

“Fine. You can do the dishes.”

“Fine.”

***

Galen stood in front of his staff, seated in front of him in the conference room. “I hope you all enjoyed lunch, we have a lot of ground to cover this afternoon.”

“Let’s hear it, sir.” Sevin looked better, pony tail gone, a fresh haircut, clean uniform and beard and mustache trimmed.

Galen pointed at the screen. “Here we have the contract bid. Let me direct your attention to the number in the lower right corner.”

Tad gasped. “Just for dicking off for six months?”

Galen said, “They are willing to pay twenty per cent up front. That’s generous by any standard. Next item is that favorite paragraph of mine where it states we’ll perform any and all duties as directed by the… you know the deal. I modified that to state we will perform any and all duties not outlined in the contract that WE, or specifically I, deem necessary to the successful conduct of combat operations. And that phrase ‘in the spirit of the overall contract’ is gone too, and those meatheads agreed to it.”

Spike said, “So we could just take over, take command and control of the entire indigenous force if we felt like it.”

Galen smiled. “Yes. All we have to do to get paid is keep the Mosh fifty kilometers away from the spaceport and we can do any damn thing else we want.”

Tad said, “That’s a dream job.”

Karen said, “The more I think about it, the more I think the Tuha government wants to leave you hung out to dry.”

Galen said, “Could you expand that thought?”

“Sure. They want to get their butts kicked off Grinder, then tell their people back home it’s time to really panic, that the Mosh are coming. That would make it easier to stand up a larger military force at home, and make dissent even less popular. But the Mosh would look like a much greater threat if they took out a mercenary brigade in the process, and would make the hiring of mercenary units seem like a less desirable option.”

Koa said, “She’s right on the mark. My assessment of the political climate on Tuha shows it is becoming unstable. The citizens are sick of the war and the extent of government control and they are starting to think the battle on Grinder is a scam. By losing on Grinder and making it seem that a Mosh invasion is imminent, the people will put up with their government’s crap for that much longer. One hot item is the government’s desire to build a much larger space fleet, for planetary defense of course. But that means stripping immense resources out of the consumer economy, what’s left of it, and conscripting millions of young men to serve as ship’s crews for ten years or longer. It’s very unpopular right now.”

Galen said, “I don’t understand the hesitation in this room. We have a real opportunity here. We can squash the Mosh on Grinder and in the process cause the fall of a dystopian dictatorship on Tuha. Imagine not only what it would do for this unit’s reputation, but for the reputation of the mercenary industry as a whole. Think beyond that, think of all the other worlds out there, the people subjugated as a means to steel themselves against the threat of Mosh invasion. We will send a message; teach a lesson about how best to meet that threat.”

Spike stood. “Careful, sir. You’re about to start foaming at the mouth. But we’ll see what we can do, we’ll game it out. What’s the deadline for signing this contract?”

Galen said, “Thanks, XO, you’re doing a fine job. Tuesday next week. Eight days. Sevin, I want you to take the lead on organizing and training our light infantry battalion to become the tiger teams that will take control of each Tuha front-line combat company, looks like you’ll need about eighty of them. And of course you’ll provide them corps-level leadership as well. Major Polar, plan on supporting about nine thousand Tuha grunts; food, ammo, water and clothing, that sort of thing. Spike, see if we can get the interceptors from Juventud sent here, we’ll need at least four. And we’re taking helos. We’re taking just about everybody, first-years who’ve completed at least one phase of advanced training too. Everybody we can reasonably get to build up the strength of the Brigade Support Battalion. Any more questions?”

The staff stood.

Galen said, “Make it happen.”

Next morning, Spike knocked on the frame of Galen’s open office door. “Hey, boss.”

“Come on in,” said Galen.

“I was hoping you’d follow me to the conference room. Tad has come up with something but he’s hit a snag.”

“Is it that important?”

“Tad worked on it all night and it’s driving him nuts.”

Galen sent his proposed edit of the Grinder contract to Tuha, with a courtesy copy sent to the Brigade’s board of directors. He hoped it would be the last round, either accepted or rejected by the potential employer. He turned off his flat screen and closed the lid of the terminal built into his desk top and stood. “All right, I’m coming.”

He followed Spike to the conference room. Tad was standing in front of the screen, touching it with his right index finger to enter commands and move unit markers around. Tad looked over his shoulder and said, “Hey, Galen. This looks like it might not work out.”

“Show me what you have so far.”

“For the indigs, it’s easy. We shift them along the line to more defensive terrain and use a reflexive ambush when the Mosh make their attacks. That will work only once, the Mosh aren’t entirely stupid, but we only need it to work once.”

Spike said, “What he means is when the Mosh do their breakthroughs as usual and then perform a right or left turn, they will be met on the back side of the hills, cut off from their fire support and the Tuha infantry will take them apart, effectively taking the Mosh maneuver forces out of the fight.”

Tad nodded. “I’ve observed their cycle. Green units arrive and train before going onto the line. The units they relieve head to their spaceport and load up and leave, and there is a period of three weeks of waiting during which the Mosh factories build new equipment, and the troops for that equipment don’t arrive until all the equipment is built. With our help, the indigs on the line can take out over fifty per cent of the available Mosh troops.”

Galen smiled. “That’s great news. Now tell me about the problems.”

Spike said, “Once we do that, the Mosh have a battle fleet stationed in an adjacent star system. They can rally and use FTL to reach us in seven days. They can show up with an overwhelming force. Eight heavy battle cruisers at its core and over sixty more supporting combat ships. As for ground forces, they can bring in the equivalent of eleven of our divisions. So we have to get this done, start to finish, before they show up.”

Galen shrugged. “What’s the problem?”

Spike said, “Terrain, and the Mosh defensive emplacements, and their space shields.”

Tad said, “I’ve analyzed their main shield defending their command and control center. Take out that shield and we can then take out their HQ, which controls their point defense lasers and ground-based particle cannons. Once that is done, a single destroyer can turn their remaining military facilities into a smoldering ruin in a matter of minutes. Now, to get a shot at the base of the main space shield, there is a narrow gap where the shield doesn’t quite reach the ground, the notch between these two hills.” Tad pointed at a spot on the map.

Galen looked. “Could a tank hit it from here?”

Tad said, “Yes and no. Even a Hercules main gun laser would not be powerful enough to do the damage needed at that range, twenty eight kilometers, and ballistic rounds would be intercepted by point defense lasers once they get past the shield. It would take a particle cannon to make that shot.”

“And this area here,” Galen pointed at a wide open area to the left along the coast, “the Hercules tank battalion could hook across it and seize that hill; we could put a mobile particle gun on the top of that hill and take out their shield’s base. Am I right?”

Tad shook his head. “That’s soft, marshy ground. The Hercules tanks are too heavy, they would get stuck. Hornets could zip right across it but the Mosh have it guarded by rapid-fire laser guns that can penetrate the Hornet’s armor. And forget about pulling particle cannon carriage across that marsh.”

Galen said, “Those laser guns, they couldn’t knock out Hercules tanks, their armor is way too thick. It would glance right off for the most part, and then the tanks could easily return fire and destroy them.”

“Not when they get stuck in the marsh. Have you been listening?” Tad stepped back and sat in a chair, hunched over with his head in his hands.

Spike said, “He’s tired but he’s right.”

“Well let’s carry this scenario through anyway. We get the Hercules in there and take the hill. Now we need to get the particle cannon on top of the hill, lined up for that shot.”

Spike said, “The side of the hill that’s not within the line of sight of Mosh guns is too steep to drive up. We’d have to send up a squad with a cable, they’d have to anchor the cable and the gun carriage could be brought up with a wench. But the whole time, the team up top would be within the firing line of Mosh guns.”

Galen said, “What kind of Mosh guns?”

“More light lasers and rapid-fire 20mm projectile guns.”

“Something the Hercules’ armor could withstand for an extended period of time, long enough to shoot back and neutralize all threats.”

Spike said, “Now you’re frustrating me too. The Hercules tanks are too heavy to cross the marsh and they are too heavy to drive up the slope of that hill.”

Galen said, “Damn you gravity, you win again.”

Tad looked up. Spike stared at Galen.

Galen said, “Look, guys, I think I can find a way to win. We might be able to do the impossible, but first I have to go back to Ostreich and I want you two to come with me.”

“What for?” said Tad.

“I want to discuss something with my mother’s husband.”

Tad said, “You mean you father.”

“No, my mother’s a widow. She re-married.”

“Then he’s your step father.”

Galen shook his head, “Whatever, I just met the guy last week. Bring the tech specs for the Hercules and the particle cannon with you, and the ability to keep a secret, and we’ll blast out of here on the command drop ship in five hours.” Galen checked his wrist chronometer. “Be on the command drop ship at 1430 hours, civilian clothes, but bring your side arm.”

“Roger,” said Tad.

“I’ll bring the specs,” said Spike.

Galen reached into his pocket and jangled the coins he’d need for the tram.

***

Robert met them at the
Ostwind City spaceport and after a brief round of introductions and a short ride in Robert’s car the four men were in Robert’s work shop. Galen smiled and looked on as Robert ran Tad and Spike through the barbell demonstration. Tad was particularly amazed with the ability to control weight.

“So now you know,” said Galen. “What we have is a situation that calls for a practical application of your discovery.”

Robert frowned. “You know I’m not interested in developing this. I just want to live out the rest of my life in quiet, well-deserved retirement. Considering the source of this knowledge, I could get in a lot of trouble. I’d be labeled a scoundrel and would never enjoy another moment’s rest.”

Tad said, “I don’t understand.”

Before Robert could answer Galen said, “You don’t want to know, the less you know the better. But please, Robert, we need your help.”

He sat at his terminal and said, “I’ll see what I can do.”

Spike handed him the specs for the Hercules and the mobile particle cannon gun carriage. Robert brought up a computer modeling application and said, “If you’ll excuse me, this might take a while. I’ll buzz you when I’m done.”

Tad said, “How long, do you think?”

“About four hours, maybe?” Robert turned to his terminal.

Galen said, “Okay. Spike, Tad, lets go check out the sights.”

They left the apartment and went to the pub down stairs to say hello to Nan on the way out. She was working behind the bar during a busy lunch hour so she hurried them along. They walked to the center of town and sat on the steps of the Hiring Hall and watched fresh-faced young mercenaries enter the building looking for work and noticed that when they came out they could tell if they had been hired or not by their postures. They tried to make a game of predicting which aspiring mercenaries would get hired, but results were inconclusive. It was hard to tell one fresh young kid from another long enough to make the determination.

They strolled over to the Ostwind Military Academy, past its high gray walls to the pedestrian entrance, walked around the main campus area and then left, realizing there was little for visitors to do in that sparse environment. Even the snack bar lounge, equipped with poorly stocked automated snack vendors, wasn’t very relaxing with its stone benches and harsh, bright artificial lighting. Even the view out the window, overlooking the loading dock of the dining hall, did nothing to reduce stress. Frustrated, they left the academy grounds and found a small restaurant serving breakfast food around the clock and sat and had bacon and eggs at a sidewalk umbrella table.

Finally Galen’s communicator buzzed. It was Robert.

Galen answered, “Yeah.”

“I’ve got something, but I have some specific questions.”

“Be right there, about ten minutes.”

“Okay.” Robert ended the call.

Galen finished his drink and stood. Tad and Spike followed him back to the apartment and Robert had them sit in the living room on the couch and served glasses of iced tea.

Robert sat in his recliner and lifted a noteputer from the table beside it and said, “I need to know the planet’s gravity.”

Spike said, “One point zero seven G.”

“And the terrain, the softest ground to traverse?”

Galen said, “Marshland, a salt marsh, kind of spongy and soft, with a viscosity like cooking oil below the surface. I’m not sure of exact numbers.”

“I’ll make some good guesses. How about slope?”

“There’s a steep hill to climb, up to an eight hundred mil angle in places.”

Robert pecked at the screen of the noteputer with his right index finger. “Slope, one hundred per cent.”

Tad said, “That’s straight up! We only meant an angle like this.” Tad had his left forearm tilted to show the angle of the slope.

Robert smiled. “Per cent of slope is measured as rise over run. One meter forward for one meter of rise is a one hundred per cent slope.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Tad took a drink of his tea.

“One last thing, do you want these tanks to levitate or will they stay on the ground?”

Tad said, “We’re trying to be discreet. We don’t want every other military unit in the galaxy to get its hands on this technology; we want to be the only ones using it. We want to keep surprising our opponents.”

Galen said, “Yes. Flying tanks would draw a lot of unwanted attention. We’ll keep our tracks firmly planted on the ground.”

“Very well. I propose installing two lifters on each tank, one in the front and one at the back. Inside the hull, protected and hidden from view. That will give lift distribution front and back, with no requirement to control the roll of the vehicle.”

“Lifers. I like that name,” said Galen.

Robert said, “Well that’s all they really do is lift. They repel gravity, but only for themselves. It’s like having a cable pull straight up. Or like having a jack push up, I think that’s more accurate. Two lifters, with twenty tons of lift each. That should take care of the needs of your fifty six ton Hercules. The gun carriage is a different story. What will it weigh?”

Galen said, “Upwards of seventy tons, and it will be under powered and top heavy, set on a Hercules tank chassis.”

Robert poked at his noteputer screen. “Four lifters of twenty tons each, two in the front and two in the back. That should get it up that hill.”

“Should? We have to be sure,” said Spike.

Robert poked at this noteputer for a couple of minutes. “It will. I just ran a simulation.” He flipped the noteputer around and showed a video of a gun carriage climbing a steep slope. “It will work just fine. How many vehicles will you be outfitting with lifters?”

Galen said, “A battalion of Hercules tanks, that’s forty four, and four gun carriages. Forty eight vehicles.”

Robert said, “That’s a hundred and four lifters. That will take some time to manufacture and install.”

“How long?” Galen said.

“It would take me a couple of months. Ostreich has fine facilities but proteum is a controlled gas here, a byproduct of deuterium production. It’s collected and tracked for recycling as a fuel source. I’d have to be very discreet. Final assembly of each lifter would have to take place in my workshop, to keep it under wraps. And I remind you; this technology was lost to human kind and for some reason has not been re-introduced. If word gets out about this, some very powerful entities such as governments or corporations or religious orders or secret societies will crush us like little bugs, either to bury this tech or steal it for themselves. Secrecy is an absolute necessity.”

Spike said, “Do it on Mandarin. Our maintenance facility could handle it, and there’s a deuterium refinery right there, less than eight klicks away. They produce proteum as an uncontrolled byproduct. We could go right through from manufacture to installation all in the same building, and it’s a secure environment. Would a week be long enough under those conditions?”