by Aer-ki Jyr
“As penalty for their participation in the invasion,” Jamison thought aloud. “Fair enough…and with you scooping up more and more as time goes on there’s pressure on them to make a quick decision. I think we can work with that. Is your intention to deny them access to the Moon forever? What if they purchased or leased territory from another nation?”
Davis considered that for a moment, with his eyes glassing over as he thought. “Are you considering offering them some of yours?”
“No, but it’s possible that others might, so I’m asking now to avoid a future confrontation.”
“I’ll say no to purchases, but we’ll consider leases to be the private business of the territorial owners…and will hold them accountable for anything the Chinese do under their watch, but no military assets will be allowed, and no Chinese personnel will be allowed into Star Force leased zones, regardless of the other nations leasing them.”
“Workable. What about Mars, if and when you get there?”
“China is banned from all Star Force business, which includes territorial allotments. However, I won’t expand the ban on purchasing territory from other nations past Luna. That’s where their invasion occurred, and that penalty will only apply there.”
“What if they land on Mars first? Claim territorial rights as we did, or as far as you’re counting them. We never made an official claim.”
“They won’t get there first,” Davis said dismissively.
“So you are planning another expansion, and soon?”
“Soon enough…and no, they can’t hitch a ride there with someone else to plant a flag.”
“That’s one caveat I hadn’t considered. I could see them pulling something like that. If they do accept having to buy territory, we could see them forming an alliance or coalition with other nations to exert their space based power in the future…even militarily if they use puppet nations?” Jamison asked with a glance at Davis.
“Name changes won’t fly, but if they want to ‘borrow’ another nation’s military assets, then we’re going to hold that nation responsible. They’re not going to be able to cheat their way around the ban.”
“Name changes?”
“Say a province of China suddenly gains its independence and starts building a space-based military…or a governmental coup claiming that the old regime is gone and the ban only applied to them.”
“What if there was a legitimate breakup, like Baja seceding from Mexico? Would you still apply the ban to the original geographic boundaries?”
“If it’s a true breakaway, we might offer a penance agreement to recover some, potentially all privileges and status. If it’s a breakup, then all the pieces will retain the same ban…and a coup is little more than a name change. Same country, same ban.”
“No wiggle room. I like it,” Jamison said approvingly. “Now that we’ve got that covered, I hear you’ve taken some Chinese troops prisoner, along with the inhabitants of their territorial zones on Luna? What do you plan to do with them?”
“Actually, we captured more than 90% of their troops and are in the process of moving them down to lower orbit, or perhaps here. We don’t have prison facilities, so I’d planned on letting them go at some point. There’s nothing to be gained by us hanging onto them.”
“Generous of you. If you like, we can arrange to transfer them back to China?”
“That would be helpful…after China agrees to terms.”
“I think they will. Their plans backfired on them, and I think they want a way out without completely losing face. Give them a road ahead, no matter how narrow, and they’ll jump on it…all the while planning to stab you in the back later on.”
“I expect nothing less,” Davis confirmed. “And make sure they understand that this is their last chance. Any future misbehavior and we ban them from all space travel.”
“I’ll underscore that point. How well they’ll listen is anyone’s guess…but now at least they know you’re not going to be a pushover. I think that will give them pause enough to play things safe for a while. Regardless, we’ve got your back if things go south again, though at this point it looks like you don’t need our help militarily.”
“I suppose you’re also interested in acquiring the Chinese facilities we captured for a moderate price?”
Jamison hesitated, clearly caught by surprise. “I wasn’t going to mention it, but yes we are, if you’re selling.”
Davis finally cracked an ironic smile. “The Russians made a similar inquiry yesterday.”
“And your answer was?”
“We’re open to the idea, but no promises.”
“First things first?” the President guessed.
“Something like that. Have your ambassador inquire after the Chinese are dealt with.”
“If it’s alright with you, I’d like to establish a more direct communications link between the White House and Atlantis, so that we could discuss matters in person rather than having to go through the State Department.”
Davis extended his hand across his desk. “Done.”
Jamison accepted the gesture. “I think we’re on the same page now.”
“We are,” Davis confirmed, releasing the man’s firm grip. “Glad to have the help.”
9
April 18, 2060
The first of the dropships landed on the runway at the Star Force spaceport in Phoenix, Arizona, touching down at considerable speed but making contact with the ground smoothly before slowly bleeding off speed down the long runway. By the time it had passed General Akerson and was about to pull a u-turn off to the left and circle back on an auxiliary taxiway that paralleled the main track, a second dropship became visible on the other end, dropping from the sky to deliver more of the Chinese prisoners into American military hands.
More and more dropships came down in precision intervals and eventually made their way to a closed down terminal where Akerson and his troops were waiting for the handover. The General and his senior staff were standing on the observation platform, watching the landings when the first gangway connection began spilling out people one level below. Several Star Force personnel were the first ones out, followed by a line of handcuffed prisoners dressed in an assortment of civilian clothes.
One of the Star Force reps was directed up the stairs to the open air platform by an American officer on the deck, and soon the thin man was standing before Akerson.
“General,” he greeted with a nod and a data chip. “Here’s the head count.”
“And you are?” Akerson asked as one of his subordinates stepped forward and took the chip.
“Greg.”
“Just Greg?”
“Greg-073,” the trailblazer clarified.
“What’s that, a Star Force service number?” he asked, curious to see what Star Force’s idea of a military really was.
“Something like that,” Greg answered.
The Major standing to Akerson’s left frowned as he stared at the man, then his eyes widened. “You’re an Archon?”
Greg turned his head and stared at the man for a long second. “Kudos to your intelligence service. I didn’t think word would get around this fast.”
“Apparently not fast enough,” Akerson said, a bit miffed. “What are you talking about?”
“Sorry, sir. There was a report from civilian survivors of the Lunar attack that there were some sort of super-soldiers that had saved them from the Chinese. One of them dropped the name Archon, but we haven’t gotten any confirmation past that.”
“Then let me save you some time,” Greg offered. “The Archons are Star Force’s military commanders. When the Chinese overwhelmed out security forces we went in and repelled them personally, myself included. And I am more than happy to get this scum off our hands,” he said, referring to the prisoners that were being corralled into groups waiting for processing before being led out of the building under guard to waiting buses that would ferry them off into the city, and from there to wherever the Americans had pl
anned for their eventual trip back to China.
Akerson sized the shorter man up. He guessed he weighed about 175 lbs and stood just over 6 foot tall, but his build was deceptively small. Underneath the man’s red striped white uniform he could see several pressure points that indicated a muscular physique without the bulk of a body builder…and based on the way he leapt up the stairs the General imagined his speed was abnormally high, but super-soldier was stretching it. He doubted the man was anything more than a special forces caliber soldier, and nothing the Army’s own Delta Force couldn’t handle.
“That’s what we’re here for,” Akerson said. “Tell me, how bad was the fighting up there? We haven’t heard much, but it looks like the Chinese hit you pretty hard.”
“It was a serious attempt to seize the moon, and a lot of people were killed in the first few hours,” Greg explained, “Star Force personnel and tourists. They did a lot of damage until we got there, then it took a while to push them back. All of it was indoors, so I’m not sure how high that rates on your scale of heavy action.”
“How many did you lose?”
“4,219 dead, counting tourists.”
“That’s worse than I heard,” the General admitted. “How many from your unit?”
“None.”
“None?” Akerson asked, not believing it.
“No Archons died in the fighting,” Greg clarified, “but we did lose a lot of security personnel.”
“Forgive me for being curious, but when you say you were in the fighting, do you mean personally, hand to hand, or leading the fight from a command post?”
“Hand to hand.”
Akerson eyed him again. “You must be a lot stronger than you look, son.”
“I am,” Greg said evenly.
The General’s throat caught for a moment, unsure what to say. “How many of you are there?”
“Several hundred,” Greg answered without giving specifics. “Are you going to have enough cars for all of them, or do we need to establish a holding area?”
“The buses will run a continuous circuit until all the prisoners are relocated. We were told to expect 8,000. Is that number accurate?”
“8,507…including the nonmilitary personnel from their Lunar cities.”
“We shouldn’t have a problem then. Tell me, how did you manage to take so many prisoner? How many did they hit you with?”
Greg smiled. “Professional secret. I’ll let your intelligence division earn their pay on that one. As for how many they hit us with, there were less than 100 Chinese casualties on the ground, we took almost all of them prisoner. The number of those killed in space is impossible to determine.”
“Not sure I would have been so forgiving if our situations were reversed.”
“We went there to neutralize the threat,” Greg explained, “not to take prisoners. This is just the way it worked out.”
“Space combat is new to us, but my urban fighting experience suggests a high casualty count where resistance is heavy.”
“Less streets, more hallways,” Greg offered as the second dropship connected to the terminal and began offloading personnel as the first one was just finishing up.
Suddenly the American troops waiting at the entryway tensed, half raising their weapons at something underneath the General’s and Greg’s feet, down where they couldn’t see, given that the gangway was situated directly underneath them.
Akerson frowned and walked forward to the railing, glancing down at another line of prisoners dressed in civilian clothes…and a huge figure dressed in all white armor, complete with helmet and sword. “Good Lord, is that one of your men?”
“We wanted a guard on each dropship, to discourage trouble.”
“You use full body armor?”
“Yes…we don’t trust the enemy to shoot where we want them to.”
“Can I assume that’s a criticism of our vests?”
“What if they shoot you in the face?” Greg answered pithily.
Akerson tore his eye line away from the Knight and looked squarely at Greg. “His visor is bulletproof?”
“Against a few small rounds, yes.”
“Must be damn expensive.”
“That’s not a problem for us.”
Akerson grunted in appreciation. “I hear Star Force’s GDP rivals that of Russia now?”
“Not yet, but we’ll get there eventually.”
“You wear the same armor in combat?”
“Mine’s a bit smaller than his.”
“How much does it slow you down?”
“They double as spacesuits until they’re hit, which gives you more mobility in certain situations, but as far as reflex speed, the dip is significant but worth the payoff.”
“They have an air tank?” the General asked, looking down on the Knight as he watched the passing prisoners motionlessly, ready to snap into action at the first sign of trouble. After their earlier experience with the Knights, the prisoners knew better than to try anything and quietly allowed themselves to be corralled, cataloged, and escorted out of the building now free of their shackles.
“A small internal unit, good for a few minutes. Means that if a section depressurizes we’re not killed instantly.”
“Hmmn, not something that we have to worry about down here, but I imagine it’s a constant concern in space.”
“Depends how sturdy you build your infrastructure.”
Akerson turned to his aid. “Major, where are we?”
“272 processed. All match with ids supplied by the Chinese,” he said, monitoring the cataloging occurring on the deck via a handheld computer giving him a running tally on the transfer.
“Ah, we’re going to be here a while then. Somebody grab me a coffee. Would you like anything?”
“Never touch the stuff,” Greg said, patiently watching the prisoners over the railing where they were being filed through 8 checkpoints. Once on the other side they were technically in American hands, though still inside a Star Force spaceport.
He and the Knights stayed until all of the prisoners and American troops were off Star Force property, just in case something got out of hand, though no problems occurred. The handover went smoothly, with no press coverage and a minimal impact on the spaceport. When the closed terminal was reopened some 7 hours later, it officially put an end to the brief conflict between China and Star Force that became known in media circles as the Lunar War.
China bore its Star Force ban with disinterest, redoubling its orbital expenditures to the delight of rival corporations who had seen anemic earnings given Davis’s virtual monopoly over the orbital economy. With the influx of revenue those rivals would triple in number and skill, creating the first true corporate opposition over the coming years, but in volume only. Star Force had an ever increasing technology gap that bore no heed to patent limitations, and continually turned a blind eye to all lawsuits attempting to force them to turn over technology for public use, reiterating their independent status which bore heed to no nation’s laws.
Given that Star Force was so large and powerful…and contingent to the varying nations’ colonization plans…no serious attempts at forcing their hand manifested themselves outside of the impotent courts.
China held itself to the disarmament dictate, sensing that Davis’s threat to deny them any and all space travel was legitimate, but toed the line skillfully, pressing civilian expansion hard and carving out a niche in Earth’s orbital economy in an attempt to reassert its power through the social, political, and corporate angles, conceding the military dynamic. It was a new approach for the belligerent nation, and spawned a new divide in the geopolitic.
Together with Sudan, North Korea, and Pakistan, China forged an economic alliance that sought to take a bite out of Star Force’s monopoly, though their allies still did business with the mega corporation and fielded their own militaries, which were encouraged to beef up to sufficient levels to protect the Chinese via alliance if any fleet other than Star Force’s sought to pre
ss their advantage.
Dancing around the ban artfully, the alliance coalesced into the focal point for all those opposed to Star Force’s dominance, with the exiled Chinese pulling as much influence and resources away from them as they could. It was a futile effort, if it was devised to hurt Star Force’s financial situation, but it did offer the first viable path in competition to what Davis had laid out for the planet to follow, which was socially significant.
Though China had lost the Lunar War, and lost it badly, historians would point to this loss as the birth of the Star Force opposition movement, which would result in an even greater diplomatic largess for China in the coming years.
10
November 5, 2061
The luminous sign over the boarding gate switched off the red ‘closed’ marker and transformed into the brightly lit green ‘boarding’ status, with dozens of surrounding people beginning to move in response, floating out of their seats and slowly making their way toward the docked starship.
One of his coworkers pointed back over Terry Anderson’s shoulder and the engineer turned to follow the prompt.
“That’s us,” he announced to the dark green uniformed foursome seated in one of the starport’s hanging tables, midway up the gigantic, cube-like receiving area. He reached down and undid the latch across his legs and released himself to free float along with the others, then grabbed the nearest handhold and pulled himself ‘down’ towards the gate, though in the zero g room there was really no up or down, save for the orientation of the display screens.
Every single person in the room made their way across what was essentially an empty receiving area and headed into the transition terminal, then across a short umbilical into the waiting starship. The starport was so new that it hadn’t been opened to the public yet, and without the throngs of civilians going every which way with hundreds of different agendas, the grandiose architecture of the Star Force installation seemed eerily silent.