The War for Profit Series Omnibus

by Gideon Fleisher

  The Major said, “Welcome back. Now take a seat at the sky battery terminal.”

  Galen did as he was told. He observed that the laser batteries found their target was a single Mosh destroyer but they couldn’t fire on it with the base’s defense shield in the way. Galen ordered a single rail gun to fire a two second burst of projectiles at the destroyer. The defense shield only blocked energy weapons, so the rail gun’s bullets could get out but would not reach their target for about two days. And after escaping the planet’s gravity their velocity would be so low it would make their effect on the target negligible at best. It was more of a gesture than anything else. Anyway, it made Galen feel better to shoot back with something. A technician in fleet uniform tapped Galen on the shoulder. “Nice shot, Sergeant Major.”

  Galen stood and moved away so the technician could take his post at the terminal. Third-string alternate leaders from the four subordinate commands came in and occupied their respective terminals and Major Ross stood at the head of the conference table to lord over the operations center. The command chair was not yet installed, its delivery delayed by an administrative snafu in the logistics office back on Mandarin.

  Galen and Tad had little else to do than sit at the conference table and stare at the main screen. The approaching bolt of synthetic plasma fired from the destroyer filled the screen, made pale green by the filter of the defense shield. Then it vanished in an audible crackle of static and a hair-raising sensation filled the operations center a moment later, for just a moment, and then it passed. The screen gave a clear view of the Mosh destroyer. It was a cylindrical ship facing sideways to bring its plasma cannon to bear, firing broadside at Alamo. A moment later the ship was again hidden behind the bright flash of its gunfire, the bolt of energy appearing gradually larger as it approached.

  “Status?” Major Ross.

  The fleet technician said, “Shield down three percent.”

  “Okay. At this rate we’ll be out of shield in a couple of hours. Ideas?”

  Tad said, “We can reduce shield power incrementally faster with each hit so that they think their weapons are more effective than they really are. Then we shut it off so they think our shield is destroyed and then we take out their destroyer with the laser cannons. Then we put the shield back up sooner and stronger than they thought possible.”

  Galen agreed but knew it was his job to offer a different course of action for consideration. “Uh, keep the shield at full power and send up the interceptors to take out the enemy ship.”

  The Sergeant from Sevin’s aviation command looked at Galen and said, “That’s what they want, to get us out there and ambush us. Not such a good idea. They could have plenty of firepower hidden on the other side of those rings.”

  Galen didn’t mistake the Sergeant’s initiative for insubordination and was secretly proud of working with such a knowledgeable professional. But he couldn’t let the little punk talk him down in public. Galen said, “Hey, if you’re scared, just say you’re scared.”

  “Enough,” said the Major. “Tad, you have the right idea. Aviation, have two interceptors ready to launch to scout the area around the destroyer in about…two hours.”

  The Sergeant said, “Yessir.”

  Another bolt of plasma fired from the Mosh destroyer struck the base defense shield. Major Ross cleared his throat and said, “That will take some getting used to. Anyway, switch me so I’m talking to everybody who’s at their duty station.”

  Tad pressed a couple of buttons. “You’re on, sir.”

  “Attention all and greetings. This is Major Ross, you’re supreme commander here on Alamo.” Major Ross smirked as he paused. “I’ll take this moment to tell you what I know about the Mosh, who at this time have a destroyer firing a particle cannon at our space port. They began as a slave race taken captive and selectively bred to serve as cheap labor by a Terran terraforming corporation, well over two thousand years ago. They revolted against their masters, killed them off and fled to the other side of the galaxy and started their own little confederation. They dug through the databases of the ships they seized and sought their own identity. They most physically resembled the natives of Northern Europe of Terra so they adapted the culture of the ancient Vikings. But don’t worry; they speak Standard just like the rest of us because just like us it’s the language of everything in their data bases. Since then they’ve organized as some sort of empire and are now expanding. Little is known about them as a whole but their military branch is hard and tough. They love to fight. Their equipment and their tactics are rugged, straightforward and conventional. We can and will exploit those weaknesses. That is all.”

  Major Ross ran his right index finger across his throat to signal Tad to cut the transmission. After a nod from Tad confirmed the signal was cut, the Major sat down in a conference table chair and rubbed the top of his head with both hands for a moment. Then he looked at Galen. “Well?”

  “It was a little sketchy, sir. Maybe a more inspiring broadcast right after we toast that destroyer would boost morale.”

  Major Ross stared. “I was just about to say, you are off shift and you need to rest. We have to sustain operations; we can’t all stay up for the whole fight.”

  “Yessir.” Galen stood and left the bunker. On his way to the chow hall he witnessed another plasma cannon strike that turned the sky green for a moment longer than before and the hair-raising sensation was a little stronger. A nervous civilian worker plopped standard rations onto his tray. Galen ate quickly because he wanted to get in bed before the next bolt of artificial plasma struck. He jogged to his quarters and sat on his bunk, relieved that the sensation from the next plasma strike didn’t affect him as much inside his metal shack.

  Chapter Twenty Three

  Galen didn’t realize he’d been asleep when his alarm woke him. He got up, showered, dressed, ate breakfast and had five minutes to spare when he entered the TOC. The plasma strikes had stopped. Tad was seated in the command chair at the head of the table in the operations bunker. “You missed it. They came and put in this chair. You could run everything from it, if all the wires and cables were connected.”

  “So what? Did I miss anything important?” Galen sat at the table.

  “When the shield dropped to eighteen percent we shut it off right after the next strike and in less than three minutes our laser batteries burned off the destroyer’s shield and punched holes all through its hull. Looks like a sieve now.” Tad used a control in the command chair’s armrest to put the image of the hulk on the main screen. More than a hundred holes showed all over its hull. From that distance the TOC’s optical sensors looked through the holes from nearly the same angle as the lasers that made them. The planet’s rings were behind the ship and their light made the holes easy to see. “Beautiful. Anyway, two interceptors are on their way to examine the wreckage and should be there soon.”

  Master Sergeant Sevin’s voice came over the com link, “Aw, the hell with this!”

  Tad pushed a button on the side of the command chair. “What is it?”

  “Look for yourself.”

  Tad pressed another button. Visual imagery from Sevin’s interceptor showed on the main screen and revealed a cluster of Mosh ships. Tad asked, “What are we looking at?”

  Sevin breathed deep. “We see three light cruisers, six more destroyers, two scout ships and three really big troop transports.”

  “Where are you?”

  Sevin’s face filled the main screen. Tad was shocked at first and then realized Sevin had switched the view from his end of the com link. “I’m on their side of the ring where you can’t see me. We’re going to give them a bloody nose and then come back to base.”

  Galen knew Sevin was one hell of a company commander but also realized he’d never be promoted. He was not real good at following orders but was good at getting results.

  Tad stood, frustration on his face. “That’s not what, not…”

  Sevin switched the view to a sensor he ha
d placed to observe the enemy fleet. He and his wingman blasted off toward the Mosh ships. Sevin and his wingman concentrated their rail gun fire on a troop transport until it vented atmosphere and flames. Sevin’s interceptor launched a time-delay bomb that attached to the transport ship’s hull as he went by and then Sevin and his wingman spilt off at sharp angles and disappeared from view. The two Mosh scout ships pursed Sevin as he fled from the view screen.

  The technician at the fleet unit’s command terminal swiveled his chair toward Tad and Galen. “They surprised the Mosh. They were slow to react and concerned about shooting one another because of their tight formation.”

  Tad and Galen glared at the technician until he turned away to face his terminal.

  Moments later, Sevin’s voice came back. “That ought to teach them a little respect.”

  Tad adjusted the view to zoom in on the damaged troop transport. It listed. Its engines were disabled and the jets of flame from venting atmosphere pushed it sideways. Then the ship burst into a white ball of energy and for an instant a ring of distortion spread out from it like waves from a rock dropped into a pond. Tad zoomed back out. The ships of the Mosh fleet spread their formation to twice their previous intervals and the two scout ships returned to the head of the formation. One had sparks coming from its left propulsion nacelle.

  Tad said, “All yours, Galen. I’ll let you tell the Major about this.”

  Galen noted the time. It was a full twelve minutes into his shift already. “Thanks, Tad. I really appreciate it.”

  Tad smiled and left the TOC.

  Galen decided to review the battle scene playback and study the images and data in order to prepare a proper report for the Major. He would present it to him when he woke up. While looking frame-by-frame at the explosion of the Mosh troop transport and the distortion waves that followed, the fleet guy stood and walked over to the main screen and pointed at a tiny grey spec that blinked in and out as each wave passed.

  “Sergeant Major,” said the fleet technician. “I need to get a better look at that.”

  Galen zoomed in on the spec and ran the video back a few frames. “Okay. What?”

  The technician tapped the blurry cubed-shaped image. “That is a jump point receiving a jump ship.”

  Galen ran some data. “It’s farther away than ours, a lot farther. It would take them two days to get here from there.”

  “Nonetheless, it’s there. And it looks like they put it there so we’d not detect it. Pure luck, really, finding it like this. We have gained a strategic advantage….”

  The technician babbled on but Galen didn’t listen. He brought up real-time data from the probe Sevin had dropped earlier and aimed its sensors at the Mosh jump point. At maximum zoom, a tiny blurry silver splotch was visible.

  The fleet technician was still talking, “…and that is probably another battle group, at least as large as the first, to be detectible at this distance.”

  “Thank you, you’ve been very helpful. Keep an eye on that for me.” Galen went back to the command chair and sat and went over in his mind how best to present the report to the Major. Finally he said, “Hey aerospace guy, I want you to narrate the combat footage playback for the Major when he comes out.”

  The Sergeant from Sevin’s aerospace company swelled with pride and self-importance and said, “Yes, Sergeant Major.” He then turned to his terminal and began composing an outline for his narrative. Galen’s edited version of the battle footage played on his screen as the background. After a few minutes he turned to Galen and gave a thumbs-up gesture and said, “Ready, Sergeant Major.”

  Galen got up and went to the Major’s door and knocked.

  “What?” came the muffled reply.

  Galen said, “We have a battle-action report from Sevin’s recon.”

  “What!?!” The Major pulled the door open and stood half-dressed. “This better be good. I’ll be out in a minute.” Then he stepped back and finished putting on his uniform.

  Galen went back to the main room and sat at the table, in the chair to the left of the command chair. “Be ready to answer some questions, aerospace guy.”

  “You got it, Sergeant Major. Master Sergeant Sevin landed and will be ready to de-brief in a few minutes over the video.”

  Major Ross came out of his office and sat in the command chair and said, “Okay, let’s hear it.”

  Galen pointed at the aerospace Sergeant who said, “Master Sergeant Sevin and his wingman Chief Spike took off from the air strip and made their way to the other side of the planet, away from the disabled enemy destroyer and then flew to the southern pole and used the planet’s magnetic field to mask their flight. They emerged on the other side of the rings. Upon locating a large group of enemy ships, Sevin deployed a sensor probe.”

  He began running the battle footage on the main screen. “Then he attacked the enemy, taking them completely by surprise. Sevin was able to destroy a troop transport, eliminating a full third of their ground invasion troops.” The aerospace Sergeant re-wound and replayed the part where the transport ship exploded. “The ripples of the explosion has revealed the position of a concealed enemy jump point, something we might never have found otherwise, giving us a clear tactical advantage the enemy doesn’t know we have and doesn’t expect us to ever have.” He paused the video and highlighted the jump point for clarity. “Also, as we now see on the screen, one of the scout ships has been damaged and has yet to be repaired, which suggest the enemy lacks the ability to do so.” Live video from the probe zoomed in on the scout ship and showed sparks coming from the exhaust end of its port nacelle.

  Major Ross stood. “Get Sevin and tell that Master Sergeant…” He glared at Galen. “No, just have him come see me. Go over there and escort him back here. Right away.”

  Galen stood. “Sir, can we talk?”

  The Major softened a bit. “Sure, why not?”

  They went into the office and Galen closed the door behind him. “Sir, Sevin just stuck it hard to the enemy. He deserves a bonus and a medal.”

  “His orders were to check out the destroyer. He didn’t do that. Besides, I wanted to talk to the Mosh and buy time while we feel them out. But now that’s not going to happen. Sevin must have killed over six hundred of their troops already and made them understand that they aren’t up against a bunch of amateurs. I wanted to get them on the ground, over-confident and spread out, and then teach them what it means to pick a fight with professionals.”

  “Yessir, I’ll go get him.”

  “Hurry.”

  Galen left the operations center bunker and jogged toward the airstrip terminal. After a couple of minutes he was still about five hundred meters away from it when he recognized Sevin walking his direction. Galen stopped and caught his breath as he waited for Sevin to come to him.

  “Sergeant Major Galen Raper, how the hell have you been?” Sevin walked by and caused Galen to take a couple of extra-long steps to catch up and walk alongside, on the right.

  “This seems weird, me outranking you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. You aren’t the first person to smoke me on promotion and you won’t be the last. As long as you know what you’re doing, it doesn’t bother me.”

  “The Major wants to see you.”

  “I figured. That’s why I headed this way. He was my driver about ten years ago. I really liked him then. Guess I still do.”

  They walked past a shipping container that had been converted into a snack stand. A Mandarin man stood inside deep-frying some sort of meat on a long, thin stick. Several more horizontal sticks holding small bits of deep-fried meat were displayed in the window. The snacks turned slowly on automated spits. The odor of strong spices spread and mingled with a thin fog of grease and smoke. It was all around the snack stand and enveloped the half-dozen umbrella tables set up in front of the converted shipping container. A mercenary wearing an Aerospace flight suit sat at one of the tables and nibbled at the last bit of meat left on his stick. He said, “Hey M
aster Sergeant, care to grab a snack?”

  “I don’t eat Pigeon on a Stick.” Sevin walked faster. Suddenly he sneezed and his nose ran as though a water faucet had been turned on inside his head. As he walked he leaned to his side and pinched his nose with his hand and then blew his nose into the air at his side. His hand drew away a foot-long string of clear snot and he flung it out to land on the ground a half meter away. A few strides later, Sevin stopped and half-vomited to leave another gob of clear, runny mucus from his stomach in a puddle nearly a foot in diameter.

  Galen tried to ignore the appalling display but couldn’t. “Are you sick?”

  “No, I just can’t stand that smell.”

  “You must be allergic to the chicken or the seasoning or the oil they use to deep-fry.”

  Sevin wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands and then winked at Galen with a swollen, red eye. “No, if I were allergic to anything like that I wouldn’t be medically fit for military service. That can’t be it. It must be combat stress.”

  “Must be the stress.” Galen opened the door to the TOC for Sevin and then followed him in. Sevin walked quickly through the operations room and entered the Major’s office and closed the door. Galen didn’t enter the Major’s office but instead sat in the command chair and faced the main screen on the opposite wall and stared without looking. It showed the Mosh battle group holding its same formation.

  Galen decided to show the fleet guy a little more respect. “Hey, Master Chief.”

  “Yeah?”

  “What could we do that would annoy the Mosh fleet the most?”

  The Master Chief thought for a while and then said, “Get rid of those two scout ships.”