“You could have told me,” Vereshchagin said mildly, perched at an unnatural angle.
“And give you hours to worry? My job is to look after you. The car will be here to pick you up in ten minutes.”
“Thank you, Gu,” Vereshchagin said with obviously mixed emotions.
At Coldewe's headquarters, he found Coldewe closeted with Commissioner Mutaro and a Japanese officer.
Coldewe took him by the arm. “Anton, this is Major Mitsuru Aichi, commanding No. 305 Independent Infantry Company.” Aichi was rail thin, with a prominent Adam's apple. He saluted stiftly. “Honored Vice-Commissioner.”
“What ships are here?” Vereshchagin asked, returning Aichi's salute.
“My company is billeted with the scientists on assault transport Zuiho. Frigate Aoba has also arrived with two corvettes. We anticipate arrival of freighters Singapore Maru and Miami Maru within a few days.” Aichi looked at Coldewe. “If the local sit
uation permits, I would like to land my company. Shipboard conditions are never entirely pleasant.”
Vereshchagin nodded. “President Sanmartin approved your request in advance, although she expects us to keep you as far from the local population as possible.”
Mutaro said with a sly smile, “We were also discussing the company that Colonel Coldewe has undertaken to provide for the expedition. Major Aichi fails to see the necessity.”
Vereshchagin raised one eyebrow.
“I believe my company is capable of undertaking all missions assigned to it, Vice-Commissioner,” Aichi said with obvious pride. “In our most recent unit-readiness inspection,we were scored at the 105th percentile.”
Coldewe smiled faintly.
“Have any of your men been in combat?” Vereshchagin asked.
“No, Vice-Commissioner. I regret not”
“Hans?” Vereshchagin asked
Coldewe shrugged. “Fewer bad habits to unlearn. Shall we?”
Vereshchagin nodded. “I see no reason why not Major Aichi, is your company equipped with mock combat equipment?”
“I regret that we did not bring it” Aichi began to look discomfited. “I regret that I did not anticipate the need”
“Hans?” Vereshchagin said
“I'll put Karaev and Bukhanov onto it,” Coldewe volunteered. “After they finish swearing, it should take them about an hour to assemble the stuff and get it to the shuttle strip.”
Vereshchagin nodded. “Give them two hours, then. Major Aichi, an exercise will give you an opportunity to assess us, and it will give us an opportunity to assess you. Shall we try it?”
“Yes, Vice-Commissioner,” Aichi said, looking at Mutaro, who was grinning.
“What role would you prefer, company in the offense or company in the defense?”
After a slight pause, Aichi said, “Company in the offense, Vice-Commissioner.”
Vereshchagin nodded again. “Good. Hans, any suggestions for an objective?”
“Major Aichi's people aren't acclimated, so we don't want to spend too much time fooling around.” Coldewe called up his electronic map and focused in on a map square in the continent’s interior. “The forest all pretty much looks the same. Pick a hill. Any hill”
Aichi scanned the map carefully, clearly dismayed by the speed at which events were progressing. “Perhaps this one.”
“Hmmm. Hill 410.” Coldewe touched the radio at his temple. “Chiba point one. Break. Hello, Jan. This is Hans. Is No. 9 your ready platoon? . . . Good. Tell Hiltunen to get them into mock combat gear and out to defend Hill 410. We're going to throw an Imp infantry company at it. . . No, wait an hour before you tell them. We don't want to give them too much of an advantage . . . Same to you. Jan. Coldewe out.”
He looked at Aichi. “I'll give you copies of our rules of engagement. Make sure your people understand them--we don't want any real casualties. Also, make sure your people carry three canteens. It gets pretty hot out there. Did you want to jump from the shuttle, or do you want me to lay on transport aircraft?”
“We will jump,” Aichi said.
“Fine. How long will it take your people to get ready?”
“Perhaps twelve hours,” Aichi admitted.
“Good enough.” Coldewe shrugged. “I'll call Jan back and tell him to delay. If Hiltunen has twelve hours to dig into that rock, you'll never find him. Unless, of course, be wants you to.”
“May I see to my command?” Aichi requested.
Coldewe nodded. “Poikolainnen will arrange a ride for you.”
Aichi saluted and departed.
Vereshchagin watched him leave. “I suppose I should have chatted with him for a few minutes first”
Coldewe grinned. “I saw you stiffen when he said 'unit readiness inspection.' “ He told Mutaro, “We absolutely flunked our last Imperial unit-readiness inspection. None of our paperwork was in order. It still isn't.”
“However, your soldiers can shoot.” Mutaro observed.
“Well, yes,” Coldewe admitted. “We're very good at that.”
“There is an adage of venerable antiquity to the effect that no unit ready for inspection is fit for combat and vice versa,” Vereshchagin explained. “Hans, what do you make of Major Aichi?”
“Green as all of Ireland, of course, but I think he'll do. He reminds me of Hiroshi Mizoguchi before we let Hiroshi wrestle with the tar baby.”
“Hiroshi Mizoguchi was an excellent young officer who served with us until be was blinded, and Hans is referring to the process of breaking in a new officer,” Vereshchagin translated absently. “We are going to have to take particular care with the transition. I suppose that we ought to think of this as an acquisition and merger.”
Mutaro smiled “A shinchigun is a company that buys out another firm. The word is also used for an army of occupation.”
“It is appropriate, I think.” Vereshchagin straightened. “Hans, with Commissioner Mutaro's permission, I think that I ought to introduce myself aboard Zuiho and Aoba.”
“Say no more.” Coldewe held up his hand. “I have Detlef Jankowskie and Nicolas Sery waiting to take you to the shuttle.”
AFTER SPEAKING WITH MAJOR JAN SNYMAN, LIEUTENANT MIKA HILTUNEN pulled No. 9 platoon together. “Gather, children.” A hint of a smile graced Hiltunen's bony face. “It is metal music time.”
In Suid-Afrikan Orbit
AS THE SHUTTLE ACHIEVED LOW ORBIT, VERESHCHAGIN METHODICALLY studied a cutaway projection of His Imperial Majesty's assault transport Zuiho. Smaller than many newer ships, the hump of a shuttle bay marred her otherwise sleek, cylindrical lines. Vereshchagin had crossed paths with her once, years before during the Cyclade campaign.
Her consort, frigate Aoba, was even older. The Imperial Navy had added few ships since His Imperial Majesty's government had foresworn aggression.
Vereshchagin had known Zuiho's captain as a junior lieutenant. Aoba's commander would be the problem.
In the seat next over, Captain Detlef Jankowskie stirred. “Are you all right, sir? You've been very quiet”
Vereshchagin smiled and shut his computer off. “I am fine, Detlef.”
Jankowskie had had nearly twenty years to learn the Variag and his moods. “Sir?” he asked, politely and pointedly.
“I cannot help wondering, Detlef. It has been so long since we fought a real opponent. Have we lost our edge?” Vereshchagin asked.
Jankowskie chuckled. “We won't answer that question for certain until the last and worst possible moment, but our people spend an incredible amount of time pounding on the reserve companies and each other. If it isn't war when C Company and A Company tangle, I don't know what is.”
Vereshchagin smiled.
“Commencing docking procedures to board Aoba,” the shuttle pilot announced in clipped English.
“The devil must be ice-skating,” Nicolas Sery commented from the seat beside Jankowskie.
Jankowskie shook the fine blond hair out of his eyes
, a grin on his absurdly boyish face. “It would be difficult to find three people less welcome aboard an Imperial Navy warship than the three of us. Plus Esko, who isn't welcome anywhere.”
Senior Communications Sergeant Esko Poikolainnen snorted. As the shuttle coupled, Vereshchagin waved farewell to Major Aichi, who was waiting for the shuttle to continue on to Zuiho.
Aichi appeared lost in thought.
On board Aoba, a rating in coveralls led them forward to the bridge. Six officers were present, dressed in plain blue uniforms and saucer caps reminiscent of the uniforms worn by officers of Britain's Royal Navy in its years of glory. Three of the officers wore straight dress swords that marked them as ship commanders. They bowed in unison. Vereshchagin, Jankowskie, and Sery returned the courtesy.
“I am Captain Yotaro Kobayashi,. captain of His Imperial Majesty's ship Aoba.” Kobayashi was a tall, stocky officer with a broad, flat face. He eyed with distaste the battledress uniforms that Sery, Poikolainnen, and Jankowskie wore. “I have been instructed to place myself and my vessel under your command, Vice-Commissioner. May I present Commander Nitobe and Commander Mazaki, who command the two corvettes assigned to me; my executive officer, Commander Nagahiro; and my en gineering officer, Lieutenant-Commander lida.”
“May I introduce Captain Detlef Jankowskie, commander of the Hendrik Pienaar, his chief gunner, Nicolas Sery; and my signals officer, Senior Communications Sergeant Esko Poikolainnen.”
Kobayashi's eyes gleamed with an elfin light. “I confess that I had hoped to encounter you under different circumstances, Jankowskie-san.”
Jankowskie grinned. 'Through a targeting sight, no doubt”
“No doubt,” Kobayashi agreed.
Observing the look that Kobayashi gave his corvette commanders, Vereshchagin said, “Captain Kobayashi, perhaps Captain Jankowskie and I could discuss arrangements with you in private while Nicolas and Esko work out communications protocol with your people.”
“My cabin would be best. Please come this way.” Kobayashi led Vereshchagin and Jankowskie from the bridge down to deck A. “We will not be disturbed here,” Kobayashi explained as he shut the door behind them.
Vereshchagin studied the room to see what, if any, clues it gave him to Kobayashi's personality. The walls were unadorned, the desk in the comer empty except for a terminal. Kobayashi remained standing. “Please excuse the awkward position I find myself in. It is unprecedented.”
“Having your ships placed under the operational command of foreign--potentially hostile--officers?” Vereshchagin inquired gently.
“Yes, honored Vice-Commissioner.” Kobayashi's face tightened almost imperceptibly. “I regret that I fail to share Commissioner Mutaro's understanding of the situation.”
“Allow me to sum up: you do not understand why Commissioner Mutaro chose me to lead this expedition, and you find Captain Jankowskie's presence on your ship unsettling.”
“My officers are quite agitated. I fail to see the necessity,” Kobayashi said. “Although I am bound to obey the civil authority, which is Commissioner Mutaro, as an Imperial Naval officer, I cannot allow Captain Jankowskie to issue operational orders aboard an Imperial warship, if that is your intention.”
“I assume that you shared your concerns with Commissioner Mutaro.”
Kobayashi returned a sour smile. “He declined my resignation. I did, of course, submit a formal protest through Navy channels.”
“Let me offer this compromise: Detlef and Nicolas will remain aboard your ship as my liaison officers and will offer you advice, which you are free to accept or disregard. At a later point in time, we will review this arrangement Is this acceptable?”
Kobayashi bowed. “Hai, Vereshchagin-sama.”
Jankowskie spoke up. “We still have a few days while the scientists and the ground forces are loading up. If you'd like, you can try some maneuvers against the Hendrik Pienaar while we're waiting.”
”I think that my personnel would welcome the diversion.” Kobayashi examined Vereshchagin's face carefully. “May I ask whether you consider such training to be indicated?”
”Are you asking whether I anticipate hostilities including space combat?” Vereshchagin responded. “The potential exists.”
“Perhaps it does.” Kobayashi studied the two of them. “Jankowskie-san, I will explain matters to my personnel. I would respectfully ask you to overlook any difficulties they may have in properly adjusting to the situation.”
Slender and soft-spoken. with a hint of a potbelly, Jankowskie had been a lieutenant in The Iceman's company before Vereshchagin had selected him for ship command. In Hans Coldewe's words, Jankowskie was the mildest-mannered man who ever cut a throat or scuttled a ship. “Nicolas and I started out as infantrymen. so I can truthfully say that we have a fair amount of experience at hostile crowd control.”
Kobayashi stroked his chin. “The admiral's cabin on board is unoccupied, and I would be honored if you accepted that I had not considered where to billet Chief Gunner Sery.”
“Why don't you put us both in there? I am sure there's plenty of room. I do, however, have a small request to make.” Jankowskie pulled a little cylinder of spray paint out of his pocket. “We always paint a little white gallows insignia on vehicles and ships. For luck. With your permission.”
Kobayashi nodded abruptly. “As you say. For luck. Have you brought your baggage?”
“Nicolas and I left it by the air lock,” Jankowskie replied.
Kobayashi touched the intercom. “Officer of the deck, please have the foreign officers' dunnage brought from the air lock to the admiral's cabin.”
“Detlef, why don't you find Nicolas and settle in?” Vereshchagin said “Captain Kobayashi and I have much to discuss.”
“All these frigates are laid out much the same,” Jankowskie said “The admiral's cabin is at the end of the corridor, right?”
“The door is not locked,” Kobayashi acknowledged, with a rigid smile. He touched the intercom. “Officer of the deck, please arrange for Chief Gunner Sery to be escorted to the admiral's cabin.”
Jankowskie and Sery arrived at the admiral's cabin at almost the same moment. A rating came by with their bags and dropped them on the deck.
“Let’s unpack,” Jankowskie said, trying the handle to the door.
Sery checked out the narrow bed folded up against the wall. ”Room for an army in here. Esko has things pretty much under control. The signals officer is pretty good.” He unfolded the desk and looked through it. “I don't know how you feel, but I'd just as soon sling a hammock and let you take the bed.”
“Fine by me.” Jankowskie maneuvered to get by him. “I need to shave. Help me check out the bathroom.”
They squeezed into the little stall that served as the admiral's bathroom, and Jankowskie switched his razor on. With the razor's modulated hum to drown out his words, he murmured to
Sery, “You check for bugs?”
“Two. Not very well hidden.”
“Bugging cabins isn't something the Navy does every day. Don't touch them. The Variag told us to be on our best behavior, and it would hurt their feelings.” Jankowskie ran the razor over his chin. This is a terrible razor for shaving with. How do you like the ship?”
“Kobayashi's people seem to know their stuff. She isn't home, but I expect I could get used to her. The layout is pretty much like the Hendrik.”
“This one is a few years older, although I expect they've had a refit within the last five or six years. Did anyone ask you any battle questions?”
Sery's lip curled. “One ensign wanted to know how we took Hendrik. If you noticed, they scope cargos coming aboard, and the officers all carry sidearms. They've guessed how we did the trick, but they think we smuggled aboard about a hundred guys.” Jankowskie allowed himself a small chuckle. “A hundred guys wouldn't have had room to move. Twenty was overkill. You think anybody here has seen action?”
“Kobayashi, maybe. Maybe no
t even him. It’s been a while since His Imperial Majesty's Navy has had anything much to shoot at.”
“It’s been a while for us, too,” Jankowskie pointed out.
“Yes, but if you recall, we hang around the wrong kind of crowd when we're dirtside.”
“I do recall, and I also recall, Nicolas, how you and those circus clowns in No. 9 left me hip deep in mud, and if you think I am going to forget anytime soon . . .” He listened to Sery giggle and lowered his voice even further. “So, if we had to, how long would it take?”
“To secure this ship? Just you and me?” Sery questioned in a soft whisper.
Jankowskie nodded as he used the razor to trim his sideburns.
”Fourteen minutes, stem to stem.” Sery smiled, chillingly. “If we had to.”
Jankowskie smiled, shutting off his razor. “It’s always important to start things off in an atmosphere of trust.”
Monday (1174)
STRETCHED OUT IN THE FOLIAGE BESIDE A CLEARING, SENIOR Private Denys Gordimer lifted one eyebrow. “What’s up, Dolly?”
Assistant Section Sergeant Kalle Kekkonen touched his radio. “Chiba point one. Break. Kekkonen here. They're coming.” He adjusted the setting on his night sights and quickly counted parachutes descending on the clearing in front of him. “Half a platoon just dropped in our laps.”
Behind him, a relay switching node took his signal-weak to avoid detection--and channeled it through two other nodes to Major Jan Snyman, five kilometers away.
“What do you think. Mika?” Snyman asked Lieutenant Mika Hiltunen.
Hiltunen, a sleepy-eyed veteran, looked back at the hill they were supposed to be defending, partly visible in the distance. “They ought to jump into the trees. Aren't many clear areas, and they ought to know we have them covered. Has to be a feint.”
“I don't know. Tree jumping is pretty wicked, and I'd hate to try it with a bunch as green as that” Snyman consulted his muse. A few seconds later his eyes refocused. He touched his radio. “Kalle, does it look like a feint?”
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