“The Empire did not handle transitions of power particularly well, if at all,” she added. “A man in power knew he didn't dare lose it, if only because of the certainty of violent retribution from his victims. He’d abused his power badly, ensuring that his successors would do the same and their successors would continue the cycle. In the long term, the Grand Senate became full of people who were effectively aristocrats, completely isolated from the people they ruled and yet unwilling to change, because change would put their power at risk.
“We cannot afford to fall into the same trap. None of us can afford the development of a permanent political class, one that might - that will lose touch with reality. And a peaceful transfer of power is one of the keys to maintaining a working government.”
She paused. “I was there when we hammered out the constitution,” she said. “It was, in many ways, my first child. And now ... we have to see how well it stands without me.”
It will, Ed thought, as Gaby introduced President Sampson. The public won’t let it change too much. They’ve paid too high a price for their government.
He sobered. He’d learnt a great deal of history over the past few decades, first from the Slaughterhouse OCS and then from Professor Caesius. It was never the first generation that threw away the fruits of victory. It was the second or the third, the one who had risen to maturity - and power - without understanding the price, without understanding why the system had to be maintained. He didn't want to let go, to let his child stand on its own two feet, yet he knew he had no choice. Remaining in control indefinitely would be just as bad as letting go too soon.
Afterwards, they met Jasmine and Emmanuel Alves outside the council chambers and went for lunch. “Colonel,” Jasmine said. “Are you really going to take on the Badlands?”
“Someone has to,” Ed said. He’d decided against naming the new Marine Training Centre after the Slaughterhouse. It would be something different, something new. A mixture, perhaps, of old and new. “It’ll take at least a year or two to set up properly, then we’ll be working out the bugs for years to come.”
“And adding new technology and concepts,” Jasmine agreed. She looked down at the table for a long moment. “Should I be thanking you for the promotion or cursing you?”
“A little of both, I think,” Ed said. He’d nominated Jasmine to take over as the Commonwealth’s senior uniformed officer. It wasn't a post she’d like, he knew, but she’d be good at it. He’d be worried about giving it to anyone who actually wanted it. “You’ll be standing down in five years, if you last that long.”
Jasmine pointed a finger at him. “You’re leaving me with the task of organising the General Staff,” she said, dryly. “And giving orders to people who used to outrank me.”
“A common problem,” Ed agreed. “But they’ll all defer to your experience.”
Gaby nodded in agreement. “You have a decent record,” she said. “And you are a genuine war hero.”
“Hah,” Jasmine said.
Ed shot her an understanding look. The Commonwealth’s military had always been an ad hoc organisation. The pressures of the war had made it impossible to conduct a proper reorganisation, let alone sort out the obligations each planet had to the alliance. Ed could easily see the network of treaties that made up the Commonwealth Charter splintering under the stresses and strains of peace. Only the grim awareness that hanging together was the only thing that would keep them from hanging separately would bind the Commonwealth together.
“Mandy will be on your side,” he said. Mandy Caesius had taken over Home Fleet, allowing the former CO to take command of the border guard. “And others will be supporting you too.”
“Just start churning out new marines,” Jasmine said. She smiled, tiredly. “Mindy was complaining she wouldn't have a chance to go.”
“She will, if she wants it,” Ed said. “And so will the others.”
“Too late for Meade,” Jasmine said, quietly. “She handed in her resignation when we returned to Avalon. I think she’s shipping out with the Trade Federation.”
Ed winced. Meade - and the other Auxiliaries - had never quite got over the stigma of not being quite good enough to be marines. Some of them adapted well, some of them carried a chip on their shoulder for their entire career ... and some of them just left. He silently wished Meade well, knowing there was nothing else he could do.
Jasmine looked at Gaby. “Are you really reopening your farm?”
“Yes,” Gaby said. “It’s quite some distance from Camelot.”
“And quite close to the Badlands,” Ed said, seriously. He looked at Douglas, sleeping in his buggy. “We’ll see each other every night.”
“I hope you do,” Jasmine said. She glanced at Alves. “It’s been a wild ride, hasn't it?”
Ed nodded, slowly. In some ways, it didn't feel like they'd only been on Avalon for seven years. Too much had changed, too fast. The Empire was gone and everything was still in flux. He dreaded to think of what might be happening closer to the core, where there were more industrial nodes, starships and military installations ... and larger populations that needed to be fed. Earth was gone, if Admiral Singh’s sources were to be believed. Who knew what had happened to the rest of the Core Worlds?
“Yeah,” he said, finally. The Wolfbane War might be over, but the cynic in him knew that there were other wars to come. “It has.”
He closed his eyes for a long moment, looking into the future. Avalon was booming and the rest of the Commonwealth wasn't far behind. Technology was advancing, slowly changing society as it filtered out of the labs and into the real world. A whole new universe was arising, like a phoenix, from the rubble of the old order. He’d helped build it, he’d helped shape it ... now, it was on its own. And it would learn from the mistakes of the past. They would not be repeated.
We’ll be making new mistakes instead, he thought.
“We should send a mission to the core,” Jasmine said. “Find out what’s going on before it stabs us in the back.”
“That’s something to discuss with President Sampson,” Ed said. He was curious. The Commandant would still be alive, wouldn’t he? Major-General Jeremy Damiani, Commandant of the Terran Marine Corps, had always struck him as too mean to die. And the Commandant had known that change was coming. He’d done everything in his power to prepare for the fall. “But he might not want to provoke trouble.”
“He’ll want to know the worst,” Gaby said. “And if that means going and looking, he’ll do it.”
“Perhaps a covert recon mission,” Jasmine said. She smiled. “The Trade Federation is already sending ships corewards, sir. Perhaps we could assist them.”
“They may have destroyed themselves,” Alves said. “There might be nothing left.”
Ed shook his head. Earth was gone - and countless other worlds could be blasted from orbit - but he doubted the devastation had been complete. There were hundreds of thousands of asteroid settlements and small colonies that would probably have been left untouched by a civil war. But then, Avalon hadn't seen fleets of refugees fleeing the Core Worlds. God alone knew what was happening there.
Someone destroyed the Slaughterhouse, if the sources are to be believed, he mused. Why?
He sighed, inwardly. Admiral Singh wouldn't have been the only Imperial Navy officer with ambitions - and the wit to realise that the old order was starting to collapse. There would be others, nearer the core. And planetary governments, coming to think of it, who would see opportunity in chaos. No, there would be no peace. There would be war as the new leaders struggled to determine who would rebuild the new empire. Sooner or later, their wars would spread to Avalon.
A chill ran down his spine. “It’s too much to hope for,” he said. “We will find out what’s happening there, sooner or later.”
“Better we find out before they find us,” Jasmine said. “We don’t know who will win the struggle for the core.”
Ed smiled. “No,” he agreed. “And now you have to
convince President Sampson to back a mission to the Core Worlds.”
Jasmine nodded. “I will.”
“Good luck,” Gaby said. “Just remember to frame it in terms of how it will benefit the Commonwealth.”
“We'll be heading out to the farm tonight, after dinner with Leo,” Ed said. “Feel free to message me if you need advice, but ...”
“Only if I really need advice,” Jasmine said. Her lips quirked. They’d both been told that, back at the Slaughterhouse. “You’ll probably hear from me, sir.”
“We will see,” Ed said.
He peered out the window, shaking his head in awe. Camelot seemed to have doubled in size - again - since the squadron had departed for Titlark and Wolfbane. The vast majority of the emigrants from Wolfbane had come straight to Avalon, some taking up jobs in the cities while others struggled to raise funds to return home. Avalon would have problems coping with such a large influx, he was sure. But there was land enough for everyone ...
And a willingness to enforce the law, he thought. We can hold the planet together.
Jasmine finished her coffee. “I need to get back to the office,” she said. “There's work to do.”
“I know,” Ed said. “Just remember to make sure that everyone rotates between a desk and active service.”
“Definitely,” Jasmine said. “Me as well, sir.”
Ed nodded. “You as well.”
He smiled. There was no danger of Jasmine forgetting the real world. She had too much experience to forget the practicalities. But she’d have to make sure the General Staff didn't run into problems. There was too great a chance of ‘temporary’ positions turning into permanent ones if she wasn't careful. Too many of the wrong type of officer fought to get behind a desk and stay there.
And it wouldn't be so bad if they just kept things running, he thought, sourly. It’s when they start issuing orders that we run into trouble.
He wondered, suddenly, if he would ever return to the front lines. He’d written the rules carefully, very carefully. He wouldn't remain at the Badlands for more than two years, but afterwards? There was no way to know. The thought of retiring, of going to work on the farm and bring up his son, was tempting. And yet, he didn't want to leave the marines.
I’ll find out, he thought. Who knows what will happen next?
Jasmine rose, saluting. “Thank you for everything, sir,” she said. “Semper Fi.”
Ed returned the salute. “Semper Fi!”
The End
The Empire’s Corps Will Return In:
The Pen and the Sword
Coming Soon!
Afterword
“What this country needs is a short, victorious war to stem the tide of revolution.”
-Vyacheslav von Plehve
“Enjoy the war while you can, because the peace will be terrible!”
- Wehrmacht joke, WW2
When I started drafting out the plot for Wolf’s Bane, I came to a sad conclusion. This will be the last book (at least for the moment) focused on Colonel Edward Stalker and the Avalon Marines. The next set of books will return to the Core Worlds, picking up the story of Roland, Belinda, Glen and the remainder of the Terran Marines. Or at least that’s the plan.
I hope you’ve enjoyed following the adventures of Stalker and his men. And if you liked this book - or any of my books - please leave a review.
***
One of the fundamental truths of human history is that wars are easy to start, but very hard to stop. (As the saying goes, it takes one to start a war and two to end it.) The delusion that a nation can fight a ‘short victorious war’ has damned countless nations to endless effusions of blood and treasure, if only because their target refuses to admit they have been beaten (if, of course, they have been beaten.) History is replete with stories of nations, kings and warlords who have charged into war, only to discover that achieving their aims isn’t always enough to win the war.
Indeed, the key to winning a war - any war - is to convince the enemy that they have been beaten, that further defiance is useless. This is not as easy as it seems. The government - whatever form it takes - is often insulated from the effects of the war. It may be ruled by pragmatics smart enough to concede that the war is lost and should be abandoned until things look better, it may be pressured or overthrown by its population ... or it may be fanatical (or desperate) enough to fight to the end. Calculating the exact degree of pressure necessary to convince a government to give up is not easy. Indeed, there are very few examples of limited, but decisive victory.
In 1939, for example, Adolf Hitler presented his demands to the Poles. On the surface, they appeared to be very limited. The Germans wanted control over the ‘Polish Corridor’ and very little else. They sounded reasonable enough - reasonable enough to make France and Britain reluctant to fight over the corridor - but they were actually lethal. German control over the Polish Corridor would have given them an unacceptable degree of control over Poland itself, as they would be in a position to cut off Polish trade through the Baltic whenever they felt like it. Even if Hitler had been a honourable man - and there was plenty of proof that he couldn't be trusted - the Poles had good reason to refuse. Their choice was simple. Fight in 1939 or fight in 1940, under far worse conditions.
Hitler believed that the Western Allies would not go to war. He was wrong. The war did not remain limited. Hitler was thus committed to an endless series of military campaigns, each one costly and yet undeceive. He could not drive either Britain or Russia (or later America) out of the war, therefore ensuring his eventual defeat.
At the same time, the Allies could not convince the Germans to give up without invading Germany and crushing the Nazis. There were no shortcuts to victory. (The insistence on unconditional surrender demoralised Germans who might otherwise have overthrown Hitler, as they would have caused chaos in the rear and perhaps shortened the war without any guarantee of better peace terms.) Hitler’s utter refusal to contemplate defeat merely ensured the war would go on until he was removed from power and his government crushed.
In short, Hitler’s ‘short victorious war’ sparked off a series of conflicts that continued until Germany was defeated. He underestimated his opponents and was thus unable to understand that he had forced them into a corner. They had to fight.
In 1982, the Argentinean Government invaded the Falkland Islands, calculating that Britain would grit its teeth and surrender. In doing so, they severely underestimated the British Government. Margaret Thatcher committed her country to recovering the islands. Worse, having assumed there wouldn't be war, the Argentinean Government made no real plans to defend the islands until it was far too late. Operating on a shoestring, the British were still able to outmatch the Argentineans and force them to surrender.
The British did have a number of advantages, it should be noted. But perhaps the single greatest advantage was that the war was fought for limited objectives. At no point did Thatcher intend to invade Argentina and overthrow the Junta, a task that would have been beyond Britain in any case. Britain’s sole objective was to recover and secure the islands, ensuring that the Argentineans could not achieve their objectives. The combination of military defeat and popular outrage convinced the Junta to surrender, for now.
On one hand, Britain won a great victory. On the other, the victory did not convince Argentina that the Falklands were definitely British. The underlying causes of the war continue to bubble under the surface to the present day.
And that brings us to the War on Terror.
Invading Afghanistan - and later Iraq - was not necessarily a mistake. What was a mistake was going to war without a solid plan for overall victory and a willingness to pay the price necessary to win. Removing the Taliban from power and smashing Saddam’s government was relatively straightforward, but it was not enough to reshape the region to make it impossible for terrorists and insurgents to operate. The US needed to build a new governing structure that would give the locals a stake in their country, t
hus limiting support for opposition forces. This was not done. Instead, the US smashed local governments without replacing them with anything acceptable to both the locals and the US. The net result was a power vacuum that allowed terrorism to thrive.
In order to win, one must want to win - and be willing to do whatever it takes to win. The image the US consistently presents is that it is not willing to pay any price, bear any burden, to eradicate the enemies of freedom and build a better world. In the Middle East, the US has managed the remarkable feat of being engaged for nearly five decades without establishing itself as a permanent power. The perception that the US is constantly on the verge of pulling out (and abandoning its local allies to their fate) undermines any US attempt to actually win the war. Its allies are constantly looking for escape routes and not committing themselves because they might be abandoned at any moment.
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