Stark's Command

by John G. Hemry

  He thought about that, too. "I guess I'm pretty important."

  "Duh! Hello, Ethan! Are the lights on in there yet?" Vic subsided, shaking her head. "So now you're going to be more careful? Finally?"

  "No." Stark held up his hands to forestall another outburst. "Look, Vic, these apes trust me because they know I'll lead them. Okay, maybe that's not the only reason, but it's a big part. If I'm hiding down in a bunker, I'm not leading." He paused. "Besides, it's like leading my Squad, isn't it? You can't let the troops know you're scared, 'cause that'll scare them. I gotta be out in front."

  Vic sat silent, her eyes closed for a long moment before they reopened and focused on him. "I can't argue with that, I guess. We have to keep you alive, but we also have to risk you. Why can't any of this be simple?"

  "Because people are involved. So," Stark continued, "then those raiders hit the Command Center."

  "Uh-huh. Apparently they were supposed to reinforce the two we found in there, trash the place, then bug out in the confusion. At least that's what they were told according to their Tacs. I don't see where they'd actually have had much chance to fight their way out."

  "Nah. Not a big chance, but it might've worked," Stark conceded. "They were good, they had total surprise, they'd messed up our systems. We were lucky."

  "Luck's a good word for it." Vic stabbed a finger at part of the display. "Though we have to thank the civs for the alarm that alerted us. The attackers had our internal codes so none of our sensors alerted us. But the sentry occupying Sentry Post Four got a warning off anyway." She glanced at Stark. "He was fairly new and apparently took the warning seriously when it was passed on earlier in the evening."

  "Good thing I didn't blow it off."

  "Yeah. And good thing the sentry was green enough not to blow off the warning you ordered passed." She paused. "I wouldn't have paid attention to it, Ethan. No veteran would've. I'd have just told the civs to leave us alone."

  "I paid attention," Stark reminded her. "But you're right. My first instinct was to say 'yeah, sure, go away.' "

  "Why didn't you?"

  "Maybe because I've worked with the civs up here enough to know them personally. That makes a difference. Maybe because I grew up civ and know every civ is different, and most are decent human beings once they get to know us, too, and realize we're not players in some vid game." He remembered the old movie about the attack on the harbor. "Also maybe because I wasted part of my youth watching vids."

  Her eyebrows rose skeptically. "Are you saying I should've watched more vids when I was growing up?"

  "As long as they were the right ones. Anyway, these civs are on our team, Vic. They're learning to work with us. This victory, if you wanta call our surviving this attack a victory, is probably because the civs worked with us. We gotta learn to work with them."

  Vic looked vaguely annoyed. "I know. Just one more anthill kicked over by Ethan Stark. I guess I can't get used to the idea of being in debt to the civs, though."

  "Think of it as a payback for all they owe us." Stark thought a moment longer, focusing back on the details of the raid. "I guess the sentry at Post Four died anyway?"

  "Oh, yeah," Vic nodded. "Never had a chance. But he did last long enough to sound the alert and delay the attack a few moments, which gave Security Central time to get a call out for reinforcements." She indicated another part of the headquarters schematic. "Even with that, we still needed a piece of luck named Corporal Gomez. Her and the Mendozas' resistance in this hall stopped a big part of the raider force from sweeping in to reinforce the groups that were hitting us."

  "We barely held as it was."

  "No argument here. And, of course, Murphy wiping out that one group single-handed didn't hurt. Between them, Gomez and Murphy took out or tied down half the attacking force. Good thing they happened to bring their weapons along that night. More luck." Vic managed a smile. "That old Squad of yours is hell-on-wheels, Ethan. What'd you feed them?"

  "Common sense, training, and confidence." Stark shook his head, shuddering briefly. "Too close. Way too close. Those raiders should have taken us down, Vic."

  "That's right." Reynolds nodded again, face hard. "Ethan, I don't like surviving just because we got lucky."

  Stark stared at the display, his own expression reflecting growing anger. "So how'd they get so lucky? How'd those raiders get right on top of us without being detected earlier? How'd they land without being spotted by the orbital defenses and get inside the mil complex? How'd they pass through so many automated checkpoints where their IFF should have given them away? How was their shuttle able to spoof our sensors and remain undetected except for the ghost only the civ scan saw until we did a manual scan?"

  She bit her lip. "I told you. They had our internal codes. That's the problem with automated systems, right? No common sense. They'd pass through the devil and all his demons if they flashed the right code response."

  "Uh-huh. So they had our codes. And somebody most likely told the attackers I was living in the Commanding General's quarters. That can only mean one thing."

  "Yes." Vic looked haggard now, as if worn out by the implications. "They had inside help, Ethan. Somebody compromised our own systems and fed the raiders information to plan their attack."

  "Trasies?"

  "He probably would've, but he never had access to mil systems. Believe me, that was checked out a long time ago. Besides, codes have changed repeatedly since we arrested Trasies. It had to be someone else. I've already told Stacey Yurivan to check it out."

  "You sure we should use her for this? Stace is really mad about Tanaka buying it."

  Vic shrugged. "That means she's motivated."

  "I don't want a witch-hunt."

  "Agreed. But Stacey won't settle for anybody but the guilty one. She wants revenge something fierce, and she wants the right somebody to be the one who gets nailed."

  "Good, As soon as she gets an answer, I want to know."

  The call came early the next morning, well before most humans were stirring. Stark dressed hurriedly, rushing to meet Sergeant Yurivan, Sergeant Reynolds joining him on the way.

  Stacey Yurivan wore the look of weary triumph, which bespoke lack of sleep justified by results. "I've got your mole."

  "Just one?" Vic questioned.

  "I think so, yeah." Yurivan blinked several times, focusing through her fatigue. "Nothing's one hundred percent in this kind of thing, but since I had an idea what to look for I found some break-ins and traced them back. Once I cracked the protocol being used for the false accesses about a dozen fake identities spilled out. But they all led back to one real guy."

  "A dozen?" Stark shook his head. "I thought our security was better than that. A dozen false ID's being used to penetrate—"

  "Hold it, Stark," Yurivan snapped, then bit her lip. "Sorry . . . Commander. They didn't get through because our security was bad. No, they were real good. Nastiest stuff I've ever seen. I'll tell you all about a couple of the worms we found burrowed into the system when we have the time."

  "Worms." Vic let the single word stand.

  "Yeah. Real ugly ones." Yurivan grinned humorlessly. "I guess they were saving them for the main attack. Triggering them would have really caused us some trouble. They would've scrambled comm circuits, broadcast inhibits to all our weapons so they wouldn't shoot, screwed up our IFF so it mirror-imaged—"

  "Mirror-imaged? What's that mean?"

  "It means the IFF would have told us our friends were enemy targets and the enemy were our friends. Nice, huh?"

  "Real nice."

  "But they didn't use them during this raid, probably because they were saving them for the main attack, and now they're neutralized. You're welcome."

  Stark managed a smile back. "Thanks, Stace."

  "But these programs were very sophisticated?" Reynolds pressed.

  "Best I've ever seen," Yurivan admitted. "No question this guy is an official agent. Only government code geeks could have generated that stuff. No
w, you've got to tell me what to do. Do I leave the mole alone to see what else he tries and who he talks to, or pick him up before he does more damage?"

  Stark pondered the question, frowning down at the table-top. "What do you think, Vic?"

  "I think this mole has already done a lot of damage. I wouldn't want to risk more, tempting though it is to hope he exposes other spies."

  "Yeah." Stark focused on Stacey Yurivan again. "Everything just points to one person? No indications of multiple agents?"

  "No, which doesn't mean there aren't more than one. But it looks like only one person was active."

  "Are we sure this guy doesn't have access to weapons? Big stuff, I mean?"

  She rubbed her chin. "Don't think so. I can't swear to it, though. Records on ordnance are never absolutely accurate, even for artillery shells. On top of that, a lot of stuff got used during General Meathead's offensive and when we shoved back that enemy attack soon afterward, and that ammo never got recorded right. Somebody could have carried off a small arsenal, and we wouldn't know for sure."

  "Then take him down. Now. Do it clean and fast."

  "Okay." Yurivan hesitated. "Something else I should tell you."

  "What?"

  "You ain't gonna like it."

  Stark laughed, low and bitter. "I'm starting to get used to that kind of news. What is it?"

  "This guy. The mole. You know him. His name is Grant Stein."

  I can't feel anything. I can't feel anything. Kate, what the hell happened? "I want to see him. After you pick him up."

  Yurivan stared suspiciously back. "Don't even think about going easy—"

  "Shut up."

  Vic took one look at Stark, then stood, gesturing to Yurivan, who nodded quickly and came with her. The door closed behind them, leaving the room silent.

  It was much later when Grant Stein entered, wearing cuffs around both wrists, the chain connecting them looping down to fasten to another chain holding together shackles around his ankles. Even in low lunar gravity, no one could move quickly when chained in that fashion. Two MPs walked him in, one holding each shoulder, with two more standing a few steps behind, ready to assist if Stein attempted anything.

  "Leave him," Stark ordered. "Wait outside." The MPs hesitated, eyeing one another uncertainly. "He's not going anywhere, and I can handle him if he tries something. Wait outside."

  Four salutes, then the MPs marched out, and the door sealed. Stark stood, overtopping Stein, watching him for a long minute. "Why'd you do it?" he finally asked.

  "I don't know what you mean."

  "Drop the games. We got the evidence. We know you fed the raiders the stuff they needed to get through the sensor net. We know you planted worms in all our systems. Just tell me why."

  Grant Stein stared back, his face slowly purpling with rage. "You left her to die when you could have saved her!"

  Stark's own anger flared. "I did nothing of the kind, you stupid son of a bitch. She was already half-dead and wouldn't let me stay. I told you that!"

  "Sure. Stark the hero, and any witnesses to what really happened dead on the battlefield."

  "I never claimed to be a hero. I certainly wasn't on Patterson's Knoll."

  The flat reply seemed to throw Grant Stein off balance. He glowered wordlessly for a moment, then shook his head vigorously. "You left her. I loved my sister, and you left her to die alone. You'll never know how that felt!"

  Stark lowered his head for a long time, then raised it to look Grant in the eyes once again. "Yes, I do. I loved her, too. Loved her enough to spend my life trying to make her death mean something. Kate never would have done what you did. No. Don't even try to interrupt me, or I'll beat you senseless. If Kate thought I'd betrayed her she'd have called me on it, face to face, not slunk around in the shadows looking for backs to plant knives in. How many deaths are you responsible for? People who in some cases couldn't even fight back. You proud of that? You think Kate would be proud of it?"

  Grant Stein tried to stand straight despite the chains holding him in a slightly hunched position. "I'm her brother," he grated out.

  "Yeah. Too damn bad." Stark hit the access pad, opening the door and summoning the MPs back into the room. "Get him out of here." He saw Vic hovering nearby, face emotionless. "Vic. I want a court-martial put together. We handle this legal."

  She hesitated, then spoke cautiously. "Since the attackers killed a civilian we could hand him over to the civs for justice."

  "No. He's ours. We handle it."

  "You know what that'll mean." Vic didn't bother making the statement into a question.

  "I know."

  A military court-martial could be a complex thing or a simple thing, depending on the case, on the evidence, on the charges, and on the people running it. As acting commanding officer, Stark wouldn't be judge, jury, and executioner, but he did have the power to appoint the judge, select the jury, and approve or disapprove the sentence. As it was, he skipped the fact-gathering stage, ordering a direct move to formal General Court-Martial, letting Sergeant Bev Manley select the presiding officer and the other members of the court-martial to avoid any suspicion he might be trying to pack the court.

  Then he waited.

  Stark sat in the Command Center, momentarily alone while the watch-standers drilled in the alternate Command Center in another part of the headquarters complex. Every once in a while his eyes strayed as if of themselves to the spot where Sergeant Tanaka's body had once lain. It took him a moment to realize somebody was standing inside the dully shining metal door that now stood at the main entrance. "Vic?"

  "Yeah." She came inside a few steps, standing with arms crossed. "What're you doing in here alone?"

  "Trying to get some work done. You know. Going over these proposed improvements in security. We don't want a repeat of the surprise those raiders achieved."

  "No." Reynolds came a little closer, but remained standing. "News of the raid has hit the press back home."

  "How're they reacting?"

  "Badly. What passes for political and military leadership these days is scrambling to disavow all knowledge of the failed raid. They're claiming it was some foreign power trying to take advantage of the confusion up here."

  Stark snorted a short laugh. "A foreign power with our latest equipment and assistance from our government's agencies, huh? Anybody believe it?"

  "Of course not. Civs back home are real unhappy one of their own got targeted. They're also unhappy the economy is sinking into a deep pit. Stock market took another big dive. Loss of confidence. Apparently that matters to stock markets."

  "I guess. Any word on military stuff?"

  Vic shook her head. "No. But this raid telegraphed some of their intentions, don't you think? The Pentagon's hiring mercs to make up some for their own lack of personnel. And they're obviously planning to play rough. Assume we're going to face a major retaliatory attack, Ethan, as soon as they can put one together."

  "I already had. I also assumed they'll have to cut more deals with foreign governments so they'll have a spot on the Moon to launch an attack on us from." Stark looked up at her, his eyes demanding. "None of those things is why you're here, are they?"

  "No." Reynolds kept her voice level, her face unexpressive. "The General Court-Martial of Private Grant Stein has returned a verdict. Guilty of violations in time of war of Article 104, Aiding the Enemy, Article 106, Spying, and Article 106a, Espionage, of the Uniform Code of Military Justice. Recommended sentence is death by firing squad."

  Stark couldn't breathe for a moment, then took a long, deep inhale, tasting the clean, sterile air. "That was pretty quick."

  "The evidence was overwhelming. And he confessed. Simplifies things."

  "I guess it does. Funny how we're trying to do this all legal, when we're in violation of, what, Article 99?"

  "That's Misbehavior Before the Enemy, so I guess that applies, but they'd be more likely to lead with Article 94, Mutiny and Sedition."

  "But I can't just
let him walk," Stark stated slowly, as if to himself. "He caused a lot of deaths, among people who thought they were his fellow soldiers. I never did that."

  "No, you didn't."

  "Are we sure he acted alone? What about those other soldiers who came up with him?"

  Vic shook her head, biting one lip. "We can't be sure he was the only one, but we've found nothing else. Our best guess is that the other soldiers were protective cover, allowed up here so Stein wouldn't stand out as a single exception."

  Stark nodded, barely perceptible movements of his head up and down. "And we're doing this by the book, aren't we? Even if we do lack legal authority. We're trying to do it right. I suppose, though, legalwise the lawyers in the Pentagon could charge us with murder if I approve this sentence."