The sirens sounded the all clear. With less than an hour before his shift, Galen quickly showered, changed and ate breakfast. After relieving Tad in the TOC he sat next to Major Ross. “Guess I missed the raid.”
The Major took a deep breath. “The bombers had to come from a carrier in the second group, meaning they came in from maximum flight range and couldn’t possibly have made it back to the carrier. The bombers could have made it back on autopilot but the crews would have died for lack of life support. Then we realized the bombers were unmanned, sent in on a one-way mission. That would account not only for their heavy losses but the greater impact of the raid as well. Bombers without crews can carry more explosives; three bombers actually lasted long enough to attack and did considerable damage. We lost eight interceptors, 23 air wing personnel and ten Mandarin civilians.”
Galen let that information sink in. “So they don’t have enough pilots. They need them for something else.”
“Very good, my little apprentice. I might have to promote you to protégé. I’ll add that they wanted to get rid of obsolete bombers. Piloting one of those things against our air defenses would be suicidal. The Mosh learned from previous combat operations elsewhere that those things were complete junk, best used as a missile. The second part of their fleet is coming around to join the first group and form up to launch a ground invasion, so I think they saved their pilots to fly the landing boats. They thought they would get rid of all our interceptors but we still have four left.”
Galen looked at the main screen. It showed the air field. The flames were out and repair crews were already patching the tarmac. “They really know what they’re doing.”
“Yes. They need to get that air field repaired before the Colonel gets here, in about five hours.”
“Ahead of schedule.” Galen looked back at the main screen. The view changed to the approaching Mosh fleet, all the ships linked up as a single formation and moving outward.
The Major said, “So are the Mosh. Almost as if they coordinated it on purpose. The Colonel will be here about two hours before them.”
“Any new information from the prisoner, that Mosh scout pilot?”
Major Ross shook his head. “He’s a complete ass. He keeps insisting we surrender. He also claims to be their commander and demands we bring him food and drink and entertainment, which will guarantee us humane treatment after their inevitable victory. You want to talk to him?”
“Sure, why not.”
The Major jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “He’s in my office.”
Galen got up and went into the office. Two armed guards were in there. The Mosh pilot was chained hand and foot to a sturdy metal chair bolted to the floor. In a gruff voice he said, “Who in the name of Odin are you?”
Galen ignored the question. The Mosh was easily seven feet tall, Galen’s height. Muscular, wearing synthetic lightweight chain mail over a thick wool shirt. ing white hair, braided into a single pony tail that hung halfway down his back, pulled some of the wrinkles out of the ruddy forehead of his leathery face. A yellow mustache and ing beard covered his lower face and made it hard to read his expressions. Yellow teeth showed in his disdainful grimace, teeth stained from years of eating under-cooked red meat and drinking rot-gut red wine. Galen wondered how such barbaric people dared take the field of battle against professional mercenaries.
“So you’re the Mosh Commander?”
“I am Chief of my Clan. Release me now, bring me food and drink and women for entertainment and you will be treated well. I can make you a servant in my own lodge, a good life indeed.”
Galen stifled his urge to laugh. “Indeed. But seriously, you command that whole fleet out there and you fly around by yourself in a little scout ship. I find that hard to believe.”
“I lead, I fight. My own brother, who was in the other scout ship, was rescued and is now in charge of the fleet. My people will come to rescue me. There is no stopping them. Do you think your skinny, short men can stop us?”
“Why are you here?”
The Mosh tilted his head back and laughed. “We are here for plunder. We will take everything of value back to our homes and there will be great celebration. Many brave warriors will have their share of plunder to buy farms and build lodges and take wives. Others will squander their wealth on amusements and entertainment and then go again on another conquest when their gold runs out. I offer you this chance to submit now. You will be treated well. You and your warriors, you can teach us your ways. The builders, they can build on our home world. We will take them and all their construction equipment and let them build for us. They will be treated well. It is a good life, to serve the Mosh.”
Galen looked at the guards. “Can I shoot him?”
“No. The Major wants to let the Colonel talk to him first.”
“I understand.” Galen turned to leave.
“I demand you release me now! Give me food, and drink, and entertainment!”
Galen spun on his heel and thrust his face into the Mosh’s face. “Shut up!”
The Mosh opened his mouth wide and lunged to bite Galen’s nose. Galen pulled back just in time to avoid the attack. The Mosh’s teeth clacked loudly as he bit hard against the air. Galen went to the Major’s desk and pulled a tranq pistol from the top drawer and shot the Mosh in the thigh.
The prisoner slumped over and Galen said, “I told you to shut up.”
The guards shrugged. Galen went back out to the main room and sat in the chair to the left of the Major. “Sir, he’s crazy.”
The Major smiled. “You didn’t kill him, did you?”
“No, the guards wouldn’t let me. I did shoot him with your tranq pistol. Sorry about that, but he really pissed me off. Offered me a job as his house servant.”
“I figured you wouldn’t like him.”
Galen rolled his shoulders. “Is he really their commander?”
“He’s their War Chief, their primary battle leader. The brain of the operation is some low-ranking smart guy but he doesn’t get any credit. The ability to strut and flex and run your mouth is what gets you promoted in the Mosh military but there is always some selfless bastard in the background who provides the tactical leadership.”
“Kind of like my counterpart.”
“No, more like mine. But in the Mosh military I’d be a Corporal and Master Sergeant Sevin would be the Colonel.”
“I see.” Galen looked at the main screen. The Mosh fleet was past the edge of the ring and was slowly rotating to go around it.
“Get some rest; I’ll need you and Tad both in here when this mess kicks off.”
“But Tad is in my bunk.”
Major Ross handed Galen an access card. “Use my bunk. I’ll come get you.”
Chapter Twenty Five
Galen stayed in uniform, boots and all, as he slept on top of the blanket of the Major’s bunk. He sat up suddenly when the Major entered the room.
“Wake up, high-speed. Colonel’s landing.”
Galen noticed that the Mosh pilot was still chained up in the office. Tad was already seated to the left of the command chair, so Galen sat in the chair to its right. Galen heard the Mosh bellow, “Food, Drink, I demand this!”
Major Ross glared back at the Mosh and slammed the door. Then he sat in the command chair. “I sure hope he’s a lot more polite with the Colonel, for his sake.”
The assembled group of commanders and their immediate subordinates laughed. The commanders were seated around the conference table with their second-in-commands seated at the command terminals behind them with their chairs swiveled to face the center of the room. Two troops flanked the entrance door and stood at ease with the butts of their rifles on the floor and the muzzles in their right hands. Major Ross leaned over to Galen and said, “When the Colonel comes in, you move to the seat to the left of Tad Miller and I’ll move into your seat.”
Galen nodded and said, “Got ya, sir.”
The main screen showed Colonel Theil’s command
ship as it eased itself down to land on the tarmac of the air strip. It was a small ship that resembled a regular drop boat, but was capable of jump travel and atmospheric flight as well. After it rolled to a stop the rear cargo door dropped to become a ramp. The command tank, a Hercules outfitted with additional command and control electronics, rolled out. Colonel Norbert Theil stood high in the commander’s cupola and returned the salute of the platoon of thirty infantry troops formed up at the exit gate of the air strip to greet him. After the tank rolled by, the troops wasted no time getting back to their assigned defensive positions around the air strip.
The command tank continued on towards the TOC and came to a stop in front of its entrance. The Colonel removed his commo helmet and replaced it with a peaked commander’s cap and climbed down from the vehicle. He paused for a moment to straighten his waist-length black leather coat and made sure its pockets were zipped and brushed imaginary dust from his grey wool pants. Satisfied, he entered the TOC.
Major Ross stood and announced, “Gentlemen, the Panzer Brigade Commander!”
All the mercenaries in the conference room stood at attention and faced toward the entrance, presenting proper hand salutes. Colonel Theil gazed around the room and made brief eye contact with them all, one by one, in turn. Finally he returned the salute and said, “Carry on!”
Galen moved to the chair to Tad’s left and sat down. The Colonel approached Major Ross, who offered a handshake and gestured toward the command chair. “I’ve been keeping it warm for you, sir.”
“From what I can tell, you’ve made it pretty damned hot.” Laughs all around amongst the troops. The Colonel sat in the command chair and said, “Okay, resume normal operations. I’ll dig through the reports and let you know if I have any questions.”
The two troops by the entrance door went into the office to resume guarding the Mosh prisoner and the seconds-in-command left the TOC and the subordinate commanders took their paces at the terminals. The Major dismissed Tad and Galen and they went outside. They walked around the Hercules tank.
Galen spoke first. “This is an incredible piece of war machinery. I’d really like to take it for a ride and engage some targets.”
Tad stopped in front of the glacis plate and looked at the tank. “Awesome. If you can only have one tank, this is the one to have.”
Galen looked toward the air field and noticed an Interceptor taking off. It was followed by three more. “Hey Tad, how close was the Mosh fleet?”
“Oh, they’re close. They’re approaching from just below the horizon, hiding from our guns. They could have troops on the ground here in a couple more hours.”
Galen stared at the tank, then back at the TOC. “What, exactly, is our job now?”
Tad said, “We have time to eat chow and then we can hang out in the TOC and help manage the battle.”
“But…”
“Forget it. Nobody’s giving you that tank.”
Galen shrugged. “We got a couple of hours. Okay, let’s go eat.”
They entered the chow hall and noticed it was more crowded than usual. While waiting in line, sliding their trays along to the serving station, a troop noticed them and said, “Hey Sergeant Majors, any word from the head shed?”
Galen was cautious. “What have you heard?”
“We’re going to get hit soon and it’s going to get ugly.”
“Well, you’re right. But put up a good fight and you’ll be fine.”
A troop further back in line asked, “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Galen stepped out of line and faced the troop. “It means, earn you pay.”
The troop looked down. Galen didn’t like insubordination but hated the way the Trooper gave in right away even more. He moved away from the serving area to the front of the dining area and turned off the screen as he faced the troops seated at their tables.
“Listen up, people. I just came from the TOC and I’m here to tell you it’s going to smash into the fan in a couple of hours.”
Many troops stopped eating and faced him. “That’s right, the Mosh are coming. I expect about fifteen hundred of them, landing and walking amongst the streets of our fair city.” Galen paused to allow some groans and snickers to rise and then dissipate. “Okay, here’s the deal. We’re going with a mobile defense. Stick and move, make them pay but don’t give them any blood back. I’ve seen your personnel records; this isn’t the first party for all but a dozen of you. Keep your head in the game, cover your buddy. Trade real estate for their blood. You ground troops, you grunts and military police, you’re outnumbered ten to one, so you’ll have to take your time and make sure you kill your assigned ten enemies each. I don’t care what you have to do to make that happen. For the moment you have excellent fire support from heavy weapons like the ground-mobile rail guns, so get all of that you can and don’t be afraid to ask for help.”
Galen paused for breath and looked at the somber, serious faces. He decided to change the tone a bit. “And remember, after it’s over we’ll have food and drink, and entertainment!”
He stood erect, shoulders back more than normal and stroked an imaginary beard, to project a Mosh persona. He spoke with a bellowing Mosh accent, “Submit and you will be treated well. I will make you a servant in my lodge, a good life indeed.” Troops laughed, some laughter delayed as the veterans explained the joke to newer troops.
“It is good to serve the Mosh. We will train with you. You will teach us your ways on our home worlds and we will teach you how we mate with our sisters, and sheep! A good life indeed!”
Howling laughter filled the chow hall. Galen let things quiet down and made a final point in his natural voice. “I know things can get confusing but don’t be led astray. We will win this fight. We will never accept defeat. If you get orders to stand down or submit, take it with a grain of salt and question its validity. Is it really the right choice for you? No one can order you to surrender, that is written in your contract.” Galen paused and counted to five in his head. “And although it goes against your nature, give up ground and fall back to conserve forces. That means conserving your life and the lives of the mercenaries around you. Civilians, save them if you can but not at the risk of the mission. Not this time. The fight will be too tough for that. All right, we’ll all meet back here tomorrow for breakfast.” Galen slipped back into a Mosh persona and bellowed, “We will have food, and drink, and entertainment!” With that he turned the screen back on and stood in line for chow.
Tad said, “Man, you’re crazy. After that speech these guys are going to be running around cutting ears off corpses and tying severed heads to their belts.”
“Better them than the Mosh. I know what I just did. I want these guys fired up. When they survive the fight, if anyone saw them do anything wrong, we can sort that out later. But at least they’ll be alive to get accused, and I’ll step up and take my responsibility for this speech. And anyway, the Mosh aren’t signatories to any kind of laws of land warfare treaties.”
Tad and Galen sat at the table nearest the exit to eat and received thumbs-up gestures and confident remarks from the troops as they left.
***
Tad followed Galen down the steps into the TOC conference room. Major Ross was seated in the command chair and motioned for Tad to relieve the troop operating the sky battery terminal. Galen approached the Major and asked, “Sir, where’s the Colonel?”
“He’s in the office talking to the Mosh prisoner. Take over for me so I can go to chow.”
Galen sat in the command chair. Out of curiosity, he flipped up the small command chair screen and switched its feed to the sensor in the office to eavesdrop on what the Colonel was doing. The sensor was installed as part of the total comms package for the TOC but had gone unused and forgotten for the most part. Astonished, Galen saw that not only were the guards not there, but the prisoner was unbound and pacing back and forth in front of the Colonel, who was stretched out on the couch sipping from a small, thick glass of amber liqu
id. Galen leaned forward and turned up the volume just enough to hear the Mosh say “…the gold was delivered and is being held by your financial advisor.”
The Colonel replied, “Yes, that has been confirmed. But you came too early. This is not what I agreed too.”
“What difference does it make?”
“Chief, it’s a huge difference. My men are trapped here with no way out. I can’t let you take them as slaves.”
The Mosh stopped pacing and held his right hand balled as a fist pressed hard over his heart. “You want more gold. I will give you more gold because I will take more slaves. That is my word, and my word is my bond and my honor is my life.”
“Good,” said the Colonel. “Now all we have to work out is the amount of gold.”
Galen turned the volume all the way down but continued to record the conversation and saved the file to his personal account. There must be a reasonable explanation. Maybe the Colonel was amusing himself at the Mosh commander’s expense, pretending to accept a bribe. But how would that explain any previous arrangements, any prior delivery of gold? And the ominous message from Mr. Burwell. Treachery by the Colonel would explain a lot. Galen decided to wait and discuss it with the Major when he got back. But what if the Major were in on it, or the other officers? Galen was stuck. He didn’t want to share this news with the whole room and he couldn’t call Tad away from the sky battery post and he didn’t want to leave the command chair empty when the enemy attack was so imminent. Mostly he wanted to see more of the conversation and share it with Tad, and Master Sergeant Sevin, if possible, and determine a course of action. But most of all, he was glad he had given that speech in the chow hall. The Mosh would have a hell of a time trying to take prisoners.
“We got something,” said Sevin. He received a report on his aerospace command terminal. The main screen switched to the pilot’s view of the Interceptor team leader. Off in the distance was the Mosh fleet, the one destroyer in front, three light cruisers behind, with a full battle cruiser in the back row flanked by eight large troop transports, four on each side. The view zoomed in to show the troop transports, heavily laden to maximum capacity with drop boats. Enough for more than three thousand ground troops.
The War for Profit Series Omnibus Page 23