“Yes. Go back to his last known location and recover him. There’s no hurry. We don’t extract for another nineteen hours.”
Galen stood and walked off.
The Major called after him and he stopped and turned. “Chief, while you’re out there you should pick up all the combat suits and ejection seats you might happen to see laying around.”
***
Two weeks later Tad, Galen and Spike sat together at a table in the Jasmine Panzer Brigade mess hall on the Jasmine Panzer Brigade compound on Mandarin.
“Good chow,” said Tad. He poured maple syrup on his French toast.
“Real food for a change,” said Galen. He put extra salt on his over-easy eggs. He broke the yolks and sopped up the runny yellow mass with a buttermilk biscuit.
“We ate better in flight school.”
“I’ll bet you did, Spike,” said Tad.
“Well we did. Are you coming to my promotion this afternoon?”
“Yes. It’s about time you caught up to me and Galen. Galen, you coming to see Spike get promoted to Chief?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“What do you mean ‘maybe?’ You have to be there.”
Galen took a gulp of milk. “He didn’t come to my promotion.”
Spike looked indignant and Tad glared at Galen.
Galen smiled and said, “Ask a stupid question and get a stupid answer. Of course I’ll be there. Let’s talk about something else.”
“Well,” said Spike, “I’m done with training and I’ll be sent out to a direct air support squadron in the fleet. I have to report next week but I’m off until then. Probably have to fight on Grange, if things heat up.”
“Have a good time. Tomorrow Tad and I report to the Master Sergeant’s School to train for company-level command. Good thing we came in this morning or we’d have to wait until the next cycle.”
“I thought you two were applying for officer rank.”
“No,” said Tad. “We have to be with the Panzers for a year before we can apply.”
“Your year will be up in two months. The Master Sergeant course is three months long. I’m sure the Colonel would agree to save himself a few credits and let you go through the officer training program instead. It’s only a month long. The unit could have you back out in the fleet sooner that way; makes perfectly good economic sense to me.”
Tad’s mouth was full of bacon so Galen responded, “I’m not sure if I want to be a commissioned officer. I’m already a perfectly good NCO. I’m proficient and respected. Why should I give that up?”
“Greater pay and benefits.”
“My pay is adequate. Besides, commissioned officers don’t get contract shares.”
Tad spoke, “Spike, we aren’t chicken and we haven’t lost our nerve. We just aren’t in a big hurry to head back out to the fleet. We want to take it easy on Mandarin for a while. Three months of school and then three months in the field here and then maybe we’ll check on the officer angle. Or maybe not. We just don’t want to decide right now, okay?”
“Okay, I understand. Take some sham time.”
“Damn right we’ll take some sham time.”
Chapter Twenty
Tad and Galen walked from the chow hall towards their barracks. Spike stayed in the chow hall to eat breakfast with his new flight school friends. As Tad and Galen walked past the athletic field they heard a voice. The sound was raspy and low and that caught their attention all the more because they could just barely hear it.
“Hey you two, come here.”
They looked. Major Ross wore a jogging suit and running shoes and sat on a bench just inside the chain-link fence of the athletic field. The expression on his flat, ruddy face was serious. He leaned forward and waved them closer.
“I need your help, but keep this quiet.”
Tad stood looking through the fence with his face an inch from it. Galen was tall enough to see over and leaned on the fence so he could hear the Major more clearly.
Major Ross stood and came closer to them. He was shorter than Tad and looked dumpy in his athletic suit because the sleeves were a little too long. “There’s a new contract. I want you two for my operations section. Day shift,” he pointed at Galen, “and night shift,” he pointed at Tad.
Galen looked at Major Ross and said, “I need to know more about this before I can make a decision. We’re scheduled for Master Sergeant School next week.”
The Major waved his left hand as though he were annoyed by gnats. “You don’t need any school. With your backgrounds you’re both qualified to command this whole Brigade. This assignment is for Operations Sergeant Majors so I’ll get waivers and promote you before we leave. Just give me the word and it’s yours.”
Tad said, “Well, what is the deal, Sir? I mean, I’m in, I’d go serve anywhere with you but right now I don’t have enough to make a decision.”
Major Ross said, “Then listen up. Myung Jin transport is building a spaceport on Alamo. That’s about halfway up the far arm and on the edge of Mosh territory. The majority of the Panzer Brigade’s non-armored tactical units will be there providing security for about 1200 Mandarin workers. You two will be my assistants in the operations center for the whole operation.”
Galen said, “Sounds risky, with them sticking a toe in Mosh space.”
Major Ross took a deep breath. “We’ll cover them for 12 months and then we’re out of there. My guess is the Mosh will wait until the spaceport is built before they take it for themselves. We should be long gone by then, relieved by Mandarin regulars.”
“A year?” Tad asked.
“A year on the ground. You’ll spend about three months in stasis on the way there to preserve your combat skills. Then you’ll spend three months in stasis on the way back. It will only seem like one year to you. And I’ll credit you another six months off your contract for volunteering for this challenging assignment.”
Galen asked, “How does that work?”
“You get paid to be unconscious for six months and I promote you two grades immediately and on top of all that I chop six more months off your five year contract. Don’t make me smack you for being stupid. This is a sweet deal.”
Tad punched Galen on the shoulder. “We’ll take it, sir.”
“Okay. We leave in eight days. Be outside my office packed and ready to go at zero four thirty Monday morning next week.”
“Roger,” said Galen, an affirmative response to hearing and understanding an order.
The Major pulled a noteputer from his pocket and made entries on it while Tad and Galen walked away. Galen did some mental calculations and figured that at the end of this new contract he’d have just over two years left on his contract. He didn’t want to insult Tad’s math skills by mentioning it to him. The two friends walked along in silence.
Chapter Twenty One
Major Ross leaned over and stared straight into Galen’s eyes as he brought him out of stasis. “Wake up, sunshine. We have work to do.”
Galen stared back and then remembered what was going on. He felt as though he’d only taken a brief nap. “If I remember correctly, I have thirty seconds before I’m responsible for my actions. I might have to kick your ass.”
“In that case I might have to wait five minutes before I release your restraints.”
The lid of the stasis pod was open but Galen was still strapped down. There was no getting over on the Major; he thought of everything. “Are we there yet, sir?”
“You have ten minutes to get yourself on the drop boat. Full gear.” Before he left, Major Ross pressed the release button on the restraints so Galen could climb out of the pod and onto his feet.
“Welcome to the world of the living.” Tad was already dressed and reached into his equipment locker for his war gear.
Galen opened his own locker, a steel cabinet at the foot of the stasis pod. “This ought to be an easy year. Boring, I hope. What’s up with the gravity? Aren’t we in space?”
Tad clipp
ed his pistol belt around his waist. “This ship has inertial dampers.”
“Sweet.” Galen pulled on his combat coveralls. The material seemed stiff; then he remembered it had been in the locker for three months. He reached for his combat vest and shrugged it on. He pulled on his boots and asked Tad, “Aren’t we on the opposite side of the galaxy now?”
“Yup.” Tad brushed the inside of his helmet before he put it on.
“What does Myung Jin want with a spaceport way out here?”
“Maybe they want to start trade with the Mosh.”
“Mosh don’t trade, they take. It’s against their religion to trade.”
Tad and Galen made their way to the drop ship and found Major Ross.
“You two. Sit down and watch this.”
They sat on either side of the Major. He pointed at a screen on the bulkhead opposite their seats. He pressed a button on his armrest and an informative video describing the planet Alamo started playing. There were rings, the remnants of a moon that had broken to pieces a couple billion years before. Automated terraforming machines had been working on the surface for three hundred years and it was now fit for human habitation. The gravity was point nine six, despite the planet being slightly larger than Terra itself, owing to the lower density of the materials making up the planet. The surface was 90% covered by oceans with thick mats of algae growing in them. The spaceport was being constructed on a large island. It was the largest land mass of the planet, located near the northern magnetic pole, where the median surface temperature was 18 degrees Celsius and ranged from 4 degrees to 23 degrees.
At that point of the informative video, Major Ross switched the monitor’s feed to the pilot’s view to observe the drop boat’s landing. The drop boat undocked from the jump ship. Galen buckled his seat belt as he felt the effect of the larger ship’s inertial dampeners fade. On the screen he saw the bright rings of Alamo, on edge at first looking as thin as a sheet of paper and then more substantial as the drop boat headed for the island base. The rings left the screen as the drop boat came closer to the planet. The oceans were grey with very large splotches of blue and green algae spread around, floating in a mottled pattern not too different from leopard spots. The drop boat flew low over the base first, which gave Galen a good look at the landing field and the beginnings of foundations for hundreds of buildings all along one side. The other side of the landing strip was right up against the water with a bright edge of white boulders to prevent the sea from eroding the land on that side. The drop boat turned around and came back to make a hard, short landing before taxiing to a stop near a row of temporary tin shacks. They stepped off the boat onto the surface of the landing strip.
“Welcome to Alamo,” said the Major. Galen and Tad followed him through the rows of shacks until they came to a sturdy concrete building sunk halfway into the ground. “That’s my Tactical Operations Center and that tin shack right behind you is your quarters. Stow your gear and meet me inside.”
Tad said, “Sir, that shack looks a little small for the two of us.”
“You work shifts, twelve up and twelve down. You split one shack.” The Major walked off and entered the TOC.
Galen looked inside the three meter square hut. One bed and two lockers. “Crap.”
Tad put his bag in the first locker. “We’ll fix it up. I’ll scrounge or build a desk and chair. You can find a flat screen or something. It’ll be fine.”
“Well at least we’re right by the office and the shower house and chow hall aren’t too far away.” Galen tossed his bag onto the bed.
“Oh hell no. We have to share. When you leave this area all your stuff needs to be in your locker and the place has to be clean. Hot-bunk rules.”
Galen put his bag in his locker. “Okay, hot-bunk rules.”
They went to the TOC and entered through its only entrance, a steel door at the base of the steps that led down a meter and a half from ground level. The guard post was still vacant because the TOC was not yet operational.
Major Ross met them and led them into the central room. “The tactical control equipment gets put in tonight so this is where you’ll be working. Through that back door is my office and my quarters behind that. When you’re on shift I might or might not be working. When I’m here in this room, I’m the boss. When I’m not, it’s you. Understand?”
Galen said, “Yes, sir. What is the limit, I mean, what kind of decisions can I make without consulting you?”
Major Ross stared at Galen. “I’m paying you to make decisions. Deciding to ask me about something is a decision, but not always a good one. When time is of the essence it’s better to ask forgiveness later than permission now. I’ll cash any checks you write and then deal with your ass later. You’ll get a feel for the limits of your authority as we go along. Right?”
“Right.”
“Okay. A team is coming to set things up. You and your buddy will tell them where to put everything and will stand by until all the systems are up and running. Here’s my sketch of how I want things arranged. It’s sketchy on purpose because you two will be the ones working in here. Set it up the way you want it.” Major Ross handed a half sheet of paper to Tad. There was a sloppy diagram of a table in the middle of the room, two desks against each of the left and right walls and a thin line labeled ‘main screen’ on the wall right beside the entrance door. “Have fun with it. I’m going to sleep.”
Chapter Twenty Two
Major Ross came out of his office and stood at the head of the steel conference table bolted to the floor in the middle of the Tactical Operations Center. “Gentlemen, we’ve been here two weeks and today we go operational. Congratulations.”
Four commanders sat around the table in metal fold-up chairs. Galen stood by the entrance door with Tad, who was there a few minutes early for their shift change. They recognized Master Sergeant Sevin but the other three commanders were new. One wore a fleet uniform.
The Major continued, “Okay, around the horn starting with fleet. What you got?”
The commander in fleet uniform wore the naval rank of Commander and said, “We have six 240mm automatic guns deployed on this island, removed from that scow we found stuck in the rings. They’re old but effective. Also, we have twelve air defense lasers and eighteen ground-mobile rail guns capable of direct support, air defense or attacking ground targets. They are currently parked in hardened positions around the air strip and have live crews rotating through them on shifts.”
After a sufficient pause the next commander, an infantry Captain, reported, “We have thirty machine gun crews and two platoons of rifle infantry available to repel dismounted landing forces, if all else fails. We’ll drill and patrol and train on a three, three, four schedule until the threat condition changes.”
“Okay. Next?” said Major Ross.
Master Sergeant Sevin commanded the Aerospace wing and said, “We have twelve interceptors parked along the air strip. I’m pushing to get the hardened bunkers built and then the simulator. Until that happens I want to send up one pilot in one interceptor every day so they don’t forget how to fly.”
The Major said, “If it were anyone else I’d accuse them of wanting to goof off. Next?”
The fourth commander was a Captain. He said, “Civil Affairs is working to get a tighter grip on the worker population. They have only eight security personnel to police their twelve hundred workers. So far it’s been easy because the workers have been busy but that will change when everything is built. My fifty four military police and six civil affairs specialists will set up police substations and coordinated patrol routes over the next three days, in time for us to take control of judicial affairs for the entire population of Alamo.”
Major Ross said, “You’ll have your hands full soon enough. There is not one woman on this entire planet right now. Getting some here, that’s your lane, civil affairs. Make sure you get enough to go around.”
“Roger. We can bring in about two hundred as legitimate civil servants,
and later about fifty entertainers and bar girls.”
Major Ross said, “Good. Make sure you have tight control over that bar girl income stream. We’ll need a slush fund of some kind to take care of their medical needs. If there’s nothing else, you’re dismissed.”
The four commanders stood and saluted the Major before leaving the TOC. Major Ross went back into his office and closed his door. Galen moved a chair so that it faced across the conference table toward the main screen and motioned for Tad to sit down. He then went to the desk on the left and pushed a couple of buttons and pulled a small toy pistol from the drawer. “Watch this.”
The main screen faded for a moment and then came back as a recessed three dimensional hologram. It gave a view as though one were looking out a window. Through a dense forest, small creatures appeared. Galen aimed the toy pistol and shot at them.
Tad said, “That’s stupid.”
“It passes the time. There are different environments and different challenges. You can shoot at a million Mosh attackers charging at you across a desert if you want.”
“I’ll figure it out. See you at shift change.”
Galen handed the plastic gun to Tad and left. Outside the bunker he turned right and walked toward the chow hall. Above him the planet’s rings looked solid and reflected so much light he could hardly tell it was evening. The main difference between day light and night light was the reduced amount of mid-range hues and the heat. Nights were cooler and less colorful but still bright. Galen stopped and looked up and was just able to make out the slight grey smudge where an old battle cruiser had gotten hung up in the rings. Of course the ship was too far away to see but it disrupted the pattern of the rings just enough to show where it had wrecked.
The planet made a shadow across the middle part of the rings, an area made impossibly dark because the stars didn’t show through. That gave the dark portion a solid look as well. But then Galen noticed a tiny white speck growing in size the way a headlamp would seem to grow as it gets closer to its observer. The entire sky flickered and took on a pale shade of green as the eerie tone of sirens made Galen realize his base was under attack. Galen decided to skip dinner and ran back to the operations center. The guard waved him on in. When he entered he saw Major Ross standing at the head of the conference table and staring at the main screen. Tad was seated at the aerospace auxiliary control terminal.
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