Decker's War Omnibus 1

by Eric Thomson

  “Come in,” Daran nodded, “and close the door. I think your comments are not for everyone’s ears.”

  “Very much not,” he replied with a grimace while he did as she ordered.

  “We were planning the battalion demonstration for the Atabek’s benefit.”

  “You may want to hold off on that a little longer, commander. There’s still a problem to iron out before this unit can fight as more than a couple of disjointed companies.”

  “Norik?” Resson asked.

  “Yeah.”

  Daran sighed and waved Zack to a chair.

  “What is it now?”

  “He’s operating under the belief that his shit doesn’t stink,” Decker replied. “He refuses to adapt to the new TTPs. Oh, he’ll make a great show of it when one of us is around, but I’ve watched him when he thought no one outside First Company was in the area. As far as he’s concerned, this realignment on Marine light infantry lines is just bullshit, and that means his troops don’t know which way to turn.”

  “Is it that bad?”

  “It’s worse, XO. He hasn’t wrapped his head around the use of his heavy platoon. The other company commanders have, but not Mister Norik. He keeps using it as his reserve instead of pushing the weapons teams forward to support the rifle platoons. Last after action report I gave him on the subject almost ended badly for him. I’ve got a real aversion to assholes yelling at me where the troops can hear every word.”

  “Norik is one of our best,” Daran said, looking worried. “He was given First Company at the Atabek’s command.”

  “And someone is going to get sent to a rifle platoon as blank file filler when the Atabek sees the clusterfuck that I guarantee will occur when you have two rifle and one Support Company following a single set of TTPs and the other doing whatever it likes.”

  “We should run First Company through all its paces again,” Resson suggested, “and make sure we’re there to watch.”

  “As I said, he’ll put on a good show. To really get a sense of it, I suggest all three rifle companies get pushed to the next level. Second and Third Companies will be able to handle it, even if they won’t look slick. Norik’s not so much.”

  “You have an idea?” Daran looked at him quizzically.

  “Always,” Zack grinned. He went on to explain what he had in mind. When he was done, the two senior silahdars nodded, thinking about his proposal.

  “You do realize that if Norik humiliates himself in front of his troops, things will get seriously ugly.”

  “No question, XO,” Decker shrugged. “But I’d rather it get ugly here while we’re not shooting live ammo than on a mission twenty light years into the back of beyond where the games are for real.”

  “You don’t yet understand how the Nelvans think, Decker. They’re a lot touchier than we are, and a mortal offense can turn, well, mortal.”

  “I’m starting to get the picture, Jase. While we’re on that subject, did either of you notice that First Company is all Nelvan, unlike the others?”

  Both Daran and Resson nodded.

  “Company commanders have some latitude in choosing their silahdars,” she replied.

  “And there’s some prejudice against Commonwealthers?”

  “We’re considered softer, less adaptable by some Nelvans,” Resson said, “Norik being the most obvious example of that kind of thinking.”

  “Yeah,” Decker snorted, “I have no problems believing guys like him are harder. A skull filled with rocks is pretty tough. As for adaptability, looking at the training results, the less said, the better.”

  Daran seemed pained at his contemptuous tone.

  “You have to understand that those of us born to the silahdar or taken at a young age have a hard time finding respect for captured slaves who don’t adapt well. It may not be fair, but it is human. Many Nelvans taken into captivity have as much difficulty adjusting as Commonwealthers do. This is why the Atabek encourages the breeding of silahdars.”

  “I’ll bet,” Decker replied, a sour note in his voice. “If you want my opinion, you’d do better to reshuffle the troops around so you don’t have one company filled only with people like Norik. A wise man once said that if everyone’s thinking the same, then someone’s not thinking.”

  “Understood,” Daran nodded. “But it’s too late for any significant changes. The companies have been training together for weeks, and we don’t have enough time left before we have to be ready for use.”

  “Ready for use.” Zack chuckled. “Just like we’re tools, eh? I don’t think I’ll ever understand you people.”

  “You will in time, buddy,” Resson gave him a friendly punch on the arm. “We all do.”

  “Heh.” Decker shook his head, unsure of his feelings. Not for the first time, he got the strange sensation that life among the silahdar might not be so bad after all.

  But you have a debt to collect, he reminded himself. Once that’s done, you can spend the rest of your life screwing around with slave soldiers, in both the figurative and literal sense.

  “So are we agreed on the combat readiness test?” He asked, pushing his inner conflict aside.

  “We are,” Daran said.

  “It’ll only work if you take personal charge, commander. I’ll do the staff work, like a good sanjaqui, but I’ve got to stay in the background.”

  “Indeed, commander.” Resson agreed. “When it comes time to sort Norik out, it’ll be better coming from you than through an after action review from Decker.”

  “So be it then,” Daran rose from her chair. “I wish to see the plan by the end of day tomorrow.”

  “You will.” Zack nodded formally.

  *

  They watched First Company vanish into the misty forest on the opening leg of their test. Mala Daran was shadowing Norik to evaluate his every move. If the Nelvan silahdar resented her presence, he kept it well hidden.

  “That’s me then.” Zack thumped Resson on the shoulder. “It’s time to get Third Company out to their positions. It’ll be interesting to see Norik’s clusterfuck from the other side.”

  “You think he’ll bugger it up?”

  “Guaranteed. The way the battle run is set up, if he doesn’t use his heavy weapons properly and doesn’t deploy in accordance with Marine TTPs, he’ll get creamed.”

  “Yeah and he won’t be too happy that it’s a Commonwealther who does it to him.”

  Resson’s smile was almost beatific.

  Decker climbed into his skimmer and lifted off, heading for the first of three combat problems strewn along Norik’s path.

  It was almost dark by the time he set down behind the well-hidden ambush site. First Company wouldn’t pass by until just before sunrise and most of the troops, other than security elements, were in a hide, eating and resting. The platoon leader, Tran Kidder, was a middle-aged human who’d been taken from a colony ship that had strayed well out of the Commonwealth thanks to a faulty navigation computer. He’d been with the Kashdushiya for almost two decades, having risen through the ranks by sheer pig-headed determination.

  “Hey sanjaqui,” he whispered after the sentries had let him pass, “how’re they hanging?”

  “Still the same, Tran. Glad to see your folks are awake and doing it right.”

  Kidder smiled.

  “Doing it right is my motto, as friend Norik is going to find out in a few hours. Kahvass?” He nodded at a trooper busy around a flameless stove.

  “Sure,” Decker replied, settling on a fallen tree trunk beside the other man. Kahvass, the local stimulant drink, wasn’t exactly as good as real coffee, but it had to do. He pulled a battered canteen cup from his fighting rig and held it out to the silahdar.

  “How are your kids feeling?” Decker asked once he’d taken a sip of the bitter liquid.

  “Nervous,” Kidder admitted. “This is the first time we’ve gone force on force within the battalion, and everyone knows that Norik does things whichever way he wants.”

  “Not
that you’re gossiping,” Zack grinned, his teeth unnaturally white in the growing darkness. “It’s okay to be nervous, just as long as they do their jobs right. If Norik does his job right, he’ll likely get the best of you. If he doesn’t, then your ambush could be a success.”

  “The Boss Lady’s with him, right?”

  “Yep. It’s company evaluation time. When you guys go through your battle run, she’ll be tailing your commander the same way.”

  “And you’re not here to evaluate me at all.” Kidder sounded skeptical.

  “Everyone’s always being evaluated, but my primary job here is to look at First Company’s actions from the enemy side. Mind you, if you fuck it up, I will be holding a formal after-action review on this platoon.”

  “Then I better make sure we get Norik good. My boss may not be as touchy as your average Nelvan, but she’s still got a lot of pride, and she doesn’t like her platoon leaders to get jacked up by a damned Marine.”

  “No company commander does.” Zack drained his kahvass and shook the last drops from the mug before stowing it. “At what time are you calling the stand-to?”

  “Four. Intel has the target due to come through around five thirty.”

  “Word to the wise, Tran,” Zack patted him on the shoulder as he rose, “make it three. In the dark it takes twice as long to get into position and betting on the enemy to arrive on time rather than forty minutes early is always going to give you grief.”

  “Got it.” Kidder nodded. “You can curl up at the base of the tree here. You’ll get woken with the rest.”

  *

  A gloved hand gave Zack a gentle shake, and he rolled onto his back, eyes snapping open. He saw a dark shadow that waited until he sat up before going on to the next sleeping trooper.

  The Atabek’s armory didn’t go to sophisticated battle suits, but the face shield attached to the silahdar helmet did adequate double duty as a night vision device and primitive battle computer readout. He slipped his on and activated it. Two-fifty.

  Someone had been thinking. Wake the leadership up first and then the rest, making sure the last trooper was up by three.

  He could see the silahdars packing their gear and forming into squads, ready for the signal to move out. They were under radio silence so everything was done by hand signal or in a low voice. It wouldn’t do to have Norik’s folks pick up stray emissions.

  Kidder tapped his arm.

  “We’re moving into position now. Where do you want to be?”

  Decker had given it some thought. Sitting with the platoon leader in the middle of the ambush zone might give him a general idea of the action, but he would learn more about Norik’s readiness by joining the rear cut-off team. If the commander of First Company had done his usual planning, the heavy platoon would be tail-end charlie and outside the ambush zone, where it wouldn’t do a damn bit of good during the opening moves. Of course, it was always possible that Norik might think it out properly once the fight was on and swing them around to drive through Kidder’s flank.

  “Rear cut-off.”

  “Follow me.”

  He led Decker to the squad leader charged with securing the entrance of the ambush zone.

  “Have fun, sanjaqui.”

  “Isn’t that what we’re all here for?”

  “Not even close.” Kidder shook his head. “We’re all here because we’re not all there.”

  Decker laughed at the wry expression.

  “Good luck. Try and learn something from the enemy’s experience. It beats learning by getting your ass kicked.”

  With an assurance born from long training, the four silahdars and Decker slipped between the trees, steps muffled by the rotting vegetation and headed for the spot where the valley narrowed sharply enough to force Norik right into Kidder’s ambush.

  If the Nelvan had been thinking, he’d have figured out this was the riskiest part of his approach and planned accordingly, like put some heavy weapons up front, where they could tear up the enemy. But Norik had proven over and over that he preferred to plow his way through problems with brawn rather than brains. If he was considered one of the best, it said something about the quality of military leadership in this part of the galaxy.

  Thankfully, the commander of Third Company wasn’t that single-minded. She’d given Kidder a heavy weapons detachment and the platoon leader, in turn, had split them evenly between the two cut-off teams and the main body.

  The silahdars settled in, machine guns sited behind bushes, ready to push out when they received the order to open fire. The squad leader had done a proper reconnaissance during the daylight hours, and there was little chance that Norik’s scouts would stumble over them. They just didn’t have enough time to thoroughly clear the forest on either side of the small stream that provided the only open path.

  Part of Zack’s plan had been to force the company commanders into situations where they had to make hard choices so Daran could see how they handled themselves. The inflexibility of getting to the assigned target on time was going to drive them into making mistakes, and the only question was how bad and how they’d recover. It wouldn’t quite be a no-win scenario, but it wouldn’t be pretty.

  Decker lay down between the silahdars and made himself comfortable enough so he’d not be stiff when it was time to pull out, but not so much that he’d fall asleep. He passed the time trying to identify, from memory, the nocturnal creatures around him by sound. For all that Danjor was alien, its wildlife wasn’t terribly exotic. Decker could easily link Earth equivalents to the various avians, reptilians and what passed for mammals.

  He was so lost in thought he almost missed the faint sound of boots carefully walking among the stones on the stream’s far side. His time readout showed it was just shy of five o’clock. Norik was pushing the pace.

  The indistinct shapes of scouts materialized in the darkness. Zack noted with approval that they moved cautiously, one leap-frogging the other to pause, listen and watch before his partner took the next bound.

  A second set of footsteps sounded on the near side of the stream. Norik had set out two scout teams. Perhaps there was hope for the bastard after all.

  Funny, Decker thought, the critter noises had stopped. He smiled to himself. If Kidder was paying attention, he’d have his platoon on full alert by now.

  None of the scouts left the narrow open space between the stream and the forest’s edge, even though the vegetation was relatively sparse compared to deeper in among the trees. If Zack had been in charge, he’d have figured that the tight slash through the hills would be prime ambush country. He’d have told his scouts to spread out and check the first couple of meters into the woods, even if it slowed them down. The sensors issued to the silahdars were primitive compared to what Marines used and couldn’t detect human bodies wearing Kashdushiya-issued battledress; not if they were keeping tight emissions control.

  Norik’s men vanished into the darkness and not a minute later, the sounds of many feet arose from the still night as the first of four platoons passed the cut-off team.

  They moved well, kept proper spacing and seemed alert. But he didn’t see heavy weapons detachments interspersed with the rifle platoons, let alone the heavy platoon as a single formation in the middle of the column.

  Daran’s shape was easy to distinguish as she passed by along with the small cluster that was the company headquarters team. Decker mentally calculated time and distance, and just as he was about to urge Kidder on, the radio came to life with a single word.

  “Fire.”

  Immediately the machine guns to either side began hammering realistically as they shot training rounds that were designed merely to trigger the war games sensor each silahdar wore. To his right, the remainder of Kidder’s platoon opened up and the night was torn apart by the gunfire. Norik had his company shooting back within seconds, but it didn’t sound organized.

  Decker shifted his position to get a better glimpse of the soldiers that hadn’t entered the kill zone, and
there it was, big, bold and clear as day: the heavy weapons platoon. Considering how little use Norik had made of them in previous training exercises, it was little wonder that its leader was unable to take the initiative and force his way into Kidder’s flank.

  Training grenades exploded, sending puffs of white powder into the air and triggering the sensor of anyone who’d have been within the danger radius. First Company’s radio net was alive with shouts, barely decipherable orders, and general confusion. Kidder, on the other hand, remained silent as his platoon kept shooting.

  The volume of fire from First Company began to decrease and then dwindle away as the sensors registered hits and disabled the wearers’ weapons. The heavy platoon, stuck on the other side of the cut-off, failed to move.

  They returned fire, to be sure, and managed to force the cut-off squad deeper into the woods, but Norik had either forgotten its existence or he’d been hit, and his radio disabled. The Nelvan wasn’t one to foster a take-charge attitude among his subordinates, lest his methods are challenged. Now, his ego had bitten him in the behind.

  “Withdraw.”

  The single word cracked in Decker’s ears, and he saw the cut-off squad scramble behind a thicket of trees before rising to jog back to the collection point from which the platoon would get out of range before Norik, or whoever was now in command, could call down notional artillery support.

  Since his skimmer was also there, he followed them. Daran would give him the run-down on her side of the operation when they met to compare notes in two or three days.

  By the time the platoon reunited on the far slope of the ridge, Daran had reset the war games by reviving everyone’s sensor and getting Norik back on track. Zack did a quick headcount of Kidder’s people who were showing as wounded or dead and was impressed to see how few casualties they’d suffered. Kidder been paying attention during the work-up training and had pulled out at the right moment.

  The tendency to withdraw early could be insidious. An ambush was complete chaos at the best of times, and if the victim wasn’t quite out of the fight by the time the ambushers left, it could get ugly; shot in the back kind of ugly.