by Chris Hechtl
But that was in the future he thought. He had released the ships to leave the day before. Now he had to deal with the planet's population. Fortunately, most had been so cowed by his troops that they'd offered little if any resistance.
But he wasn't allowing anyone to let their guard down—not at all. He'd allowed Captain Zhukov to cut back on the robot patrols to conserve power and reduce their oversight and maintenance load, but that was it. He had no intention of loosening his grip now that he had it in place.
Two hundred million people. Two hundred million souls … well, come to think of it, more like half that. He didn't consider the aliens and Neos to have souls after all. So, 100 million people, all scattered across the planet's continents. There were clusters of towns, villages, and a few cities, but most of the people were farmers or miners.
Two hundred million sheep and he had twenty thousand wolves to police them. Twenty thousand humans, and ten thousand robots of various makes and models to weed out the sheep and then play shepherd until they were relieved. Which meant every one of the native humans they swayed to their side and who joined the military was almost as precious as his troops. Well, almost he thought.
His division was divided into six distinct groups. Colonel Leslie Hill ran First Brigade. Lieutenant Colonel Braxton Montreau ran Second Brigade. Captain Dimitri Zhukov ran the platoon of powered armor he'd managed to get his hands on. He also oversaw the control of the robots and drones—those that weren't under the local control of the brigades.
He also had a platoon of engineers and a small air group to support his division. Captain Pablo Eronez ran the Fifth Column Group and oversaw the militia. The captain and his militia were not impressive to the line officers, and it had nothing to do with their captain's small stature.
Along with his troops, he had Major Rafe Lockhart, his imperial intelligence officer, and Major Adrian Scherer, a special commissioner of the Department of Purity and Enlightenment. In other words, he wasn't just a spy like Lockhart, but he was also a member of the thought police in charge of swaying the humans to their cause while exterminating the aliens and Neos.
But it boiled down to his one division including supports. They'd been crammed into the two transports that had brought them to the planet with the platoon of armored personnel and engineers. The engineers oversaw groups of slaves and robots as they built firebases and military bases to secure strategic posts around the capital city, seaport towns, and other major towns around the planet.
Most of the major towns were along the coast or rivers since they were centers of trade. Since they were also where the most population was concentrated, they were where he put his troops first. Once the natives had been pacified, he'd started work on consolidating enough of his forces to free them up to move on to the next phase. He was actually pretty close to getting to Phase II. He had already started the engineers on it.
Captain Eronez had identified pockets to be routed out. Some had been bombed by KEW strikes from orbit; others were too intertwined with populations they wanted to preserve, so they would have to be routed out door-to-door. That was going to take time and would get costly as resistance began to stiffen.
Not that he expected enough to truly overwhelm his units.
Having outposts and firebases for his troops to be secure in at night was important. The main bases were also under construction, though they would take far more time than the simple firebases and forts.
They had taken over an entire town near the capital in order to use it as his central base, though he intended to have his people build a better proper one once the engineers had the time and spare material. He definitely didn't like living in brick and mortar buildings with potbellied stoves or fireplaces for heat in the winter. The occasional stray thought of a mortar shelling or IED tended to sour his mood from time to time.
Major Tyler Noveletto, the head engineer, had promised him they would be able to set up a cement factory. The local stone quarries had been temporarily abandoned. That made sense; the natives were in a survival situation. Part of his plan was to get the quarries up and running again. He wanted an impressive mansion if he was going to be stuck living on the planet for any length of time. If he was going to be stuck as governor, he intended to send for his family to help him rule, though he doubted Marsha and the kids would be willing to travel out to the sticks.
Eventually, he would end up turning it over to Scherer and Eronez. That was what the mission plan called for at any rate.
As the lead officer, he knew his conquest of the planet meant he was due to get a patent of nobility from the Emperor upon his return. The better he made the planet, the better his holdings and more impressive it would be to the Emperor and court. Therefore, he had to be careful about how he and his people squeezed the population. There was no sense squeezing them so hard that they starved. The old saying about killing the beast that fed you ran through his head. Also, the gloved hand he thought. If they kept to a policy of tough but fair, not only would they eventually win over the hearts and minds of the populace, but they'd also not have to worry about much resistance. Which, would mean he could preserve his force and even train additional forces to draw on for more conquests in the future.
It had been a long boring time getting to the planet, but they were there he thought looking about him. Sergeant Kokyo Xu, his personal guard and hatchet woman, glanced at him but then went back to watching the area around them like the proper guardian she was. He smiled slightly in approval and then went back to his inner thoughts.
He had come in after Admiral Rico; in fact, they'd passed his fleet in B101a1 but then had run into drive issues that had slowed down the final leg of their journey to a virtual crawl. It had also sucked a majority of the fuel from the two ships. So much so that the crew and he had sweated their ever getting to their destination in the first place.
But they had. And he knew he, like a lot of his troops, had no intention of getting into those death traps anytime soon. He had held ships an extra-long time in order to help pacify the planet, and because the planet's fuel depots had been destroyed in the initial landing. That had been unfortunate he thought with a smirk, at least for the ship captains who had gnashed their teeth about the schedule. What they didn't know and what Ruffus hadn't been willing to tell them, was that he had destroyed the fuel deliberately in order to force them to remain until he was ready to depart with their services.
Now he was confident; he'd let Major Noveletto rebuild the fuel processing plant and then allowed the ships to be refueled. He'd been nervous that Captain Zhukov would have wanted to take his platoon with them since there had been little resistance, but apparently the captain had decided to stick it out for the time being. That was fine with him.
Kokyo's hand moving in a measured arc to her ear alerted him that something was up. He turned to look at her as she cocked her head and listened. After a moment, the hand dropped to her side, and she turned to address the general. “Sir, Major Noveletto is on the radio. He is ready to report.”
“Good,” the general said. He stepped back inside the house and then over to the bedroom they had set up as a radio room during his stay in the so-called governor's mansion. It was a hovel compared to the mansions on Horath, but it was a roof and relatively comfortable for the time being.
“This is General Drier,” he said as he settled himself into the chair and hit the transmit button. “Report, Tyler,” he ordered.
“Sir, we're on schedule to complete the last firebase by the end of the week. Firebase niner niner five has been finished. Well, roughed out. The guards can deal with the rough edges in their free time,” he said.
“Good,” the general replied with a nod of approval. Right on schedule he thought.
“Sir, Captain Eronez has reported a possible site for the first Phase II camp. I sent an inspection team. I think it can work for our purposes until we get a better purpose-built facility up and running,” he said.
The general nodded slowly.
Major Scherer was chomping at the bit to get that phase going he knew. He should focus on one thing at a time, but apparently the radio broadcasts were easier than he'd predicted. Now that they controlled the radio towers, it had been a simple affair to link them to a central network and then put the major's team in control of them.
“Where is this camp?”
“Close to you, sir,” the major replied. “The captain indicated one of the fuel plants that are used to generate power for the capital city should work. The large burners had been converted from burning wood and artificial coal to liquid fuels, but they left the original hardware on site. We can use that and the smokestacks as an improvised crematorium. The site has a 3-meter-tall brick wall around it for security.”
“And the chambers themselves?” the general asked.
“That is a bit trickier. We can use a basement of a warehouse nearby I think. The walls will enclose it, and we drop the gas in from the ceiling so there is no way out. It has brick walls so it should serve our needs. There is a small rail line that passes between it and the fuel plant.”
“Even better,” the general said as he rifled through the papers until he found a tattered map courtesy of the late former owner of the home. His fingers traced over the worn faded paper until he found the site. He tapped it and then found the warehouse the major had mentioned, then the rail line. He peered at it and then grunted. “We need better maps,” he growled.
“Yes, sir. Another project for another day I'm afraid,” the major said.
“Don't put it off for too long,” the general growled.
“No, sir,” the major said tiredly. “Right now the maps we've got from orbit are working for the robots.”
“But they don't have everything we need. Find a way to incorporate the local maps with the ones we got from Captain Eronez and our own INTEL sources,” the general ordered.
“Yes, sir. I'll talk to Major Lockhart. I thought he was working on that,” the major replied.
The general grimaced at the implied rebuke. He really was barking up the wrong tree; the engineers had enough to deal with. “Correction noted. I'll talk to him.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“And get him off the stick. What about this request from Captain Zhukov?” he asked, waving a hand.
“Sir?”
“He wants to move his unit to a better location now that we're secure. Apparently, he prefers a site on the outer edge of our perimeter. It is a system of caves in the hills nearby. He wants engineering support.
“Sir, we're spread pretty thin as it is,” the major said slowly.
“I know that. But we need them to unpack fully. At the moment, a quarter of the robots are being held not because I want them in reserve but because we don't have the place or bandwidth to control them, nor a proper place for the techs to maintain and recharge them. We need that fixed,” the general said succulently.
The major grunted. The general imagined he was swearing a bit under his breath and now most likely figuring out a way to juggle his schedule in order to accommodate his boss's request.
“Yes, sir. I can't make any promises, and it will not be a priority project. I might be able to spare one or two of my people to do the site survey and draw up the plans. I don't know when though.”
“Get this handled, Major. If not tomorrow, then soon. I made a promise to the captain that I intend to keep. He knows people in high places, and I do not want to tick him or them off. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. I'll get someone on it just as soon as I can,” the major replied.
“Good. Alpha One out,” the general said. He stood as the major sputtered his reply and signed off.
The engineers were indeed spread too thin. There was only a platoon of them after all, and most of them were not officers. He knew that Noveletto had groups of slaves, robots, and the occasional off-duty fire team being overseen by privates who normally ran equipment. That wouldn't do.
“General,” Kokyo said from the doorway. He turned to her. “Major Lockhart is outside. He informed me that there is a hurricane building off the southwest of this continent, and its general direction is inland. It should hit the coast within the week.”
“Frack,” the general said as he rubbed his temples. “Okay, send him in. We need to alert the commands in the area to prepare …”
<)>^<)>/
Staff Sergeant Simon Jensen was proud of himself. He'd risen through the ranks to become a staff sergeant in the Death's Head Brigade, and he felt like he had settled into his new posting quite well. This was to be his first staff meeting, and he was looking forward to it. He'd always wanted more of a say in how things were run … and wanted to know how things actually worked.
People tended to underestimate him he thought. They'd originally nicknamed him “Simple Simon.” He'd taken the moniker on to let his enemies underestimate him. They'd quickly learned the error of their ways.
Now was his chance he thought. It had only taken a bit of maneuvering to get Maureen Ung in trouble enough to get her demoted. The bitch had been lucky she hadn't been shot. He knew it wouldn't last long, and most likely she knew he'd arranged her fall from grace so he had to watch his back. But that was what Don, his cousin, was for. Don had been the real one to arrange the fall in such a way to allow Simon to have a group of alibis. That had kept his hands scrumptiously clean.
Not that she believed that he wasn't involved somehow for a second. He knew she would have to go when he got the chance. He had already started to plot a handy insurrection incident to cover her loss. He just needed the right opportunity—though it would be nice if he could be there on hand to witness it or hell, get his rocks off on the tight ass cunt before he put a bullet in each of her blue eyes.
He had a healthy dislike of women. That was something of the norm in the Horathian military. He had it a little more than most though; he'd served under a series of female commanders, both noncoms and officers. He'd managed to keep his disdain under wraps the entire time though. He might not like them, but he wasn't totally stupid.
But now that he was a staff sergeant he had felt some of those chains loosen up. He was more comfortable, finally where he wanted to be. He'd even taken Don out to a bar, and they'd gotten hammered, which explained his current hangover. They'd even gotten it stuck in with one of the bar maids. The stupid cunt had been ugly, but he'd been too drunk and horny to care.
The Horathian female officers were lookers, not the butch bitches that infested the noncom ranks like Ung. Take for instance the tall platinum blond number nearby he thought as he looked her up and down. She had a thing for leather, nice legs, and damn what an ass to go with that hourglass figure he thought.
“Who is that?” he asked Simon asked, nodding his chin to the striking beauty who had just entered the room.
His cousin elbowed him to behave. Simon was really feeling his oats since he'd joined up. The fact that he hadn't taken the time to get to know the officers was a bad sign. He'd been so intent on bringing down Ung he hadn't kept his eye on the bigger picture. Don was starting to regret his role in bringing the bitch down. “Here comes Lieutenant Zevaya. Whatever you do, don't mention her ears!” Don stage-whispered in his ear.
“What? Who's …?” Simon turned around and caught sight of the platinum blond again. The woman had her back to him. She brushed her hand over her hair, pushing it up and over her long pointed ears. “What the hell? Are you even human, lady?” he demanded.
The room instantly quieted. Most Horathians hated anyone who didn't conform to the human genome. To accuse someone like that …
Don instantly backed away from his boneheaded cousin, hands up and making motions like he had nothing to do with it. Lieutenant Zevaya's long ears twitched, then she turned a cold fulminating look on Simon. Simon stared at her; he'd been stared at by worse including a couple powerful Neo predators he'd cornered. But his resistance wavered when she came over to him and her hands flashed out. One gripped his right ear, the other his balls. �
��Did you say something to me, scumbag?” she hissed in his ear.
“Sorry, ma'am!” he gulped. He looked down to see she had a knife on her wrist gauntlet. If she flicked her wrist, it would come out and he'd be singing soprano for life. “No offense!” he said as she twisted his ear and balls hard enough to bring tears to his eyes and make his vision waver. He kept his hands out and away in a clear sign of submission.
“You're a pervert,” Zevaya hissed. “And you disgust me,” she said. “Are you getting hard?” she demanded, squeezing harder and forcing him down until his knees started to buckle. “I should make you lick my boots,” she snarled.
He felt something on his ear, like his ears were on fire. Liquid dripped on his turned cheek and the ground, he saw it as tears fell. It was blood. The bitch was drawing blood …
“Let him go, Lieutenant. That's an order,” Captain Zhukov said mildly as he came into the room. The room's occupants instantly snapped to attention … all but the staff sergeant and lieutenant.
“Just teaching this pissant some manners,” Lieutenant Zevaya said as she shoved him on his ass. He backpedaled and landed hard, hands outstretched to support him. Before he could even think of popping up or reaching for a weapon, the toe of her right foot stepped down on his already aching balls. “Men are always about appearances. I, on the other hand, do not like it when people bring it up. Understood?” she demanded, twisting her foot back and forth to grind the point home.
“Yes, ma'am!” he said in a high pitched voice, clearly about to pass out from the pain. His eyes went cross-eyed as he looked at his agonized crotch and her boot.
“Enough,” the captain said in a sterner tone of voice as he went over to the drink dispenser.
Lieutenant Rick Sng caught her look and grimaced. She'd taken Ung on after her fall from grace. Obviously she had it in for Jensen. He made a mental note to can Simon when the idiot slipped up enough to justify it and when he had a proper replacement lined up to fill his shoes.