The Final Battle (26 page)

“Speaking of Juggernaut, have you heard about
Recognizant
? I was outside of Gwalia; we found some of the wreckage and a body.”

“I did hear. Hell of a shame. Admiral Moussawi was one of our best. I’ll miss him.”

“I’m a bit out of touch, sir,” Michael said after a pause. “How did Juggernaut go?”

“Better than we expected, though I hate thinking about the ships and spacers we lost. We got almost all of the landers dirtside, and although they took a bit of punishment early on, we were able to keep those bloody orbital kinetics at bay once we got our laser batteries deployed.” Jaruzelska frowned. “Those orbital kinetics are nasty, and don’t the Hammers just love them.”

“Tell me about it, sir.”

“The Hammers don’t seem to care what they do to this planet of theirs. One of the
ENCOMM
guys told me they use tacnuke bunker busters.”

“Not often. They’re not very effective; the Branxtons are so huge and the limestone is hundreds of meters thick. The locals hate them, of course, and it’s one thing they aren’t afraid to object to. Even Polk and his thugs can’t ignore such an emotional issue.”

“Using nuclear weapons on your own home planet.” Jaruzelska shook her head. “That is unbelievable.”

“Does anyone have a feel for how the Hammers see things now?” Michael asked.

“Now, that is an interesting question,” Jaruzelska replied, “and yes, the
NRA
does. You’ve got to give it to them. Their intelligence networks are superb.” She paused. “There’s a report you should see. What’s your security clearance?” she said.

“Top Secret Gold,” Michael said, pushing his
NRA
identity card over for Jaruzelska to check.

“That will do,” the admiral said. “Come with me.”

• • •

Michael sat back from the holovid screen. “That’s impressive, admiral,” he said, “and this man Ngaro is right when he says UNMILCOMM’s assessment of Operation Juggernaut was, let me see … yes, ‘overly optimistic.’”

“He’s not Chief Councillor Polk’s chief of staff because he’s an idiot; that’s for sure.”

“Look here,” Michael said, his finger stabbing out at the screen, “where he says ‘Operation Juggernaut has given the
NRA
a mobile missile and laser defense capability, a capability that will allow them to sustain offensive operations outside their Branxton and Velmar bases for the first time.’ That must mean they know the
NRA
will attack McNair.”

“Of course they do, and that’s the problem with the
NRA
’s strategy. It’s all so obvious.”

“What choice do they have, sir? The
NRA
has to take McNair if they want to get rid of Polk and his crew.”

“This is now a war of attrition, Michael. The next time the
NRA
breaks out, all the Hammers have to do is throw everything at them, then grind them down and go on doing that until there is nothing left of the
NRA
but blood and dust.”

Doubt clouded Michael’s face.
I’ve never looked past Juggernaut
, he realized.
I’ve always assumed that taking McNair was just a matter of time
.

“And all the Hammers have to do is keep it together,” Jaruzelska went on. “Don’t forget that they have the resources of three industrialized worlds to draw on. That gives them more men, more armor, more missiles, more ordnance, more of everything. If they can outlast the
NRA
, then they win. Simple as that.”

Michael shook his head. “Ngaro’s not at all confident they can do that,’ he said. “He says morale in the military is at an all-time low and civil unrest is becoming a serious problem.”

“He can thank the Revival for that. Their agents are doing a good job of destabilizing things. Mindless vandalism, flash mobs hurling bricks and Molotov cocktails, sabotage shutting down factories, crippling transport, and disrupting power supplies, and no matter how brutally DocSec cracks down, it’s not showing any signs of stopping. If the Hammers are to lose this war, then that’s why.”

“So we’ve got a chance?” Michael asked.

“Oh, yes; just not as good a chance as I would have liked.”

Michael tried not to think what failure meant. “So what are your plans now, sir?”

“I’m joining your Anna’s battalion along with all the other Feds
ENCOMM
doesn’t have jobs for. We leave tomorrow.”

“You’re … You are kidding me, sir!” Michael said, eyes wide with surprise.

“Think I’m too old?”

“No, no, no,” Michael protested. “Just seems a waste of … you know … a waste of an admiral.”

“The
NRA
doesn’t need any admirals, Michael. It needs soldiers. Besides, what else would I do? I can use a gun, I can take orders, I’m a bit old but I’m fit, and it’ll be nice for someone else to do the worrying for a change.”

“Fair enough, sir,” Michael said, still trying to get his head around the idea of an
NRA
battalion stuffed with top brass playing at soldiers and commanded by an ex-lieutenant; he wondered how much more bizarre it could get. “Well, good luck with that, sir,” he continued, getting to his feet. “I’m here to see General Vaas, and I’ve got a few things to do first, so I’d best get going.”

“Off you go, but take care. We’re almost there.”

“I will, sir.”

• • •

Vaas looked up as Michael walked in.
Oh, crap
, Michael thought when he saw the thunderous look on the man’s face.
I’m about to get my ass kicked
. “You wanted to see me, sir?” he asked.

Vaas said nothing for a moment, then nodded. “Yes,” he said, his voice soft. He looked at Michael for a minute; his eyes were hard and unforgiving. “Now,” he went on, “did you or did you not understand my orders before you left for Gwalia?”

“Yes, sir, I did.”

“But you chose not to obey them. Is that it?”

“I’m not sure I follow you, sir.”

“Don’t mess with me, Colonel Helfort. I ordered you not to take any unnecessary risks, but you went ahead and did anyway.”

“Yes, sir,” Michael said. “Sorry, sir.”

Vaas threw his hands up. “Oh, for fuck’s sake, sit down. I was briefed on what happened at Gwalia this morning. What the hell were you thinking?”

“Of the mission, sir.”

“No, you weren’t,” Vaas snapped. “The only mission that matters is defeating the Hammers, not blowing the head off the Gwalia base commander. Kraa damn it! I don’t need you to do low-level shit like that. You’re no good to me dead, and if I cannot trust you to obey orders, you are useless. I have to be able to trust you; you must see that.”

“I’m sorry, General,” Michael said, and he was. Deep down he’d always known what the right decision had been; the problem was that he had been too caught up in the moment to walk away as he should have. “It won’t happen again.”

Vaas looked at him; after a while, he nodded. “Nobody doubts your bravery or your dedication,” he said, his voice all the more damning for its absolute lack of emotion, “but I do doubt your self-discipline. I’m not giving you any more chances, Michael. Disobey an order again, no matter how dumb you think it is, and I’ll bust you down to trooper. And if I do, you won’t be joining the Federal Battalion. You’ll be spending the rest of this Kraa-damned war on sector security. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“When we’re done here, I expect you to kick the ass of that sergeant of yours. She had her orders too, and I don’t give a damn whether you overruled her or not. She knew what she had to do.”

“I’ll do that, sir.”

“Speaking of security, you’ll be getting your own close protection detail. Call me a slow learner, but Sergeant Shinoda will be in charge, and
ENCOMM
is giving you four troopers with the right training and experience. You are to make it quite clear to Shinoda and the rest of the team that they are to take you by the scruff of your miserable neck and drag you to safety anytime they think your life is in danger whether you want to be dragged or not, and that’s not a suggestion, Colonel Helfort. That’s an order, and I expect it to be obeyed to the letter. Is that understood?”

“Understood, sir,” Michael said through gritted teeth.

“Good. We won’t mention this lapse of yours again. Now, how is Colonel Balaghi?”

“In a word, optimistic, sir.”

“That’s good to know. He’s a thinker, that man. Any issues I should know about?”

“One, but I’d like another couple of days to talk it through with the political affairs people over at the Resistance Council.”

That got Vaas’s attention. “The Resistance Council?” he said, eyebrows raised. “A bit out of our area of operations, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is, General. But as I see things, working across the boundaries is precisely what I’m supposed to do.”

“Can’t argue with that, but the Resistance Council can be prickly if they think the
NRA
is interfering in their business, so be careful.”

“I will be, sir.”

“Good. Let me know when you’re ready to brief me.”

• • •

“So is that clear?”

“As crystal, sir,” Shinoda said.

“I hope so,” Michael said. “I do not want another kicking like that again.”

“It won’t be a problem, sir. And I’ll make sure the rest of the detail understands things as well.”

“Who have we got?”

“Corporal Bavalek, and troopers Kleber, Mallory, and Delabi. They were all Hammer marines once, so they’re competent, well trained, and experienced.”

“I’ll catch up with them when we move out in thirty minutes.”

“Where are we off to now?”

“The Resistance Council.”

Shinoda’s eyebrows lifted a fraction. “Thirty minutes, Resistance Council, got it,” she said. “We’ll be ready.”

• • •

Michael looked at Martin Ruark for a moment. The more the Resistance Council’s authority on the Hammer’s bizarre state-sponsored religion told him about the Word of Kraa, the more he realized how little he knew. “So,” he said, choosing his words carefully, “the Teacher of Worlds has the power of life or death over everyone below him: every high prelate, every priest, every deacon, every acolyte?”

“Every last member of the Brethren,” Ruark said. “They take what is called the Vow of Absolute Submission. That means there is no appeal against any decision made by Calverson. It’s very simple: The Brethren obey or they die.”

“What about Calverson? Who controls him?”

“In theory, his imaginary friend in the sky.” Ruark pointed to the ceiling with a grimace. “But in practice, he is constrained only by the networks of mutual obligation that govern all Hammer politics. Just like any senior Hammer, Calverson has to negotiate to get what he wants, though nobody should be in any doubt that he is an immensely powerful man.”

“But if he says ‘jump’ to the Brethren, they jump?”

“They do. And Calverson is not afraid to take Polk on, especially if he believes the Doctrine of Kraa is under threat. Remember the Salvation operation?”

“How can I forget?” Michael said. “We lost eleven ships that day.”

“That was all Calverson’s doing. He leaned on Polk to send a task force to clean out a breakaway Hammer sect on a pissant planet nobody cared about. And yes, it did cost you Feds eleven ships, but the Hammer fleet lost even more.”

“And he can do that because it is the Word of Kraa that gives the entire apparatus of government, Polk included, its legitimacy?”

“Exactly.”

“So Calverson will interpret any attack on Polk as an attack on the Word?”

“He has no choice, really,” Ruark said. “The two systems, secular government and religious practice, are intertwined. One protects and nurtures the other.”

“Why hasn’t this problem been addressed in the planning for the attack on McNair?” he asked.

“I’ve tried,” Ruark said with a tired frown, “and the Council has tried, but
ENCOMM
says it isn’t necessary. Their plan is to take McNair, destroy Polk along with DocSec and the entire apparatus of government, and then move on to deal with Calverson.”

“Will that work?”

“I don’t think so. Calverson will see any change to the status quo as an attack on him, and he will react with all the power he can command. And it doesn’t take him long to mobilize his forces. He can have the Brethren in their pulpits and on the streets telling the faithful what to do inside a day. I think … I’m absolutely convinced that Calverson’s strategy will be to make the Worlds ungovernable until the status quo is restored.”

“Which means putting DocSec back in charge?”

“Yes. That will never happen, of course, so we’ll be facing decades of civil war until things shake themselves out. Regime change is like that.”

“So how do you neutralize the man?”

Ruark took his time answering the question. “First, you suborn his deputy,” he said finally, “a man called Rakesh Malfroy. He’s a nasty piece of work: very ambitious and utterly ruthless. And then you kill Calverson. Malfroy takes over, and he keeps the Brethren under control until the new teacher is elected, one who is prepared to work with us.”

“Can Malfroy be bought?”

“Hah!” Ruark snorted in derision. “Of course,” he said. “The man’s a Hammer, isn’t he? He was born to sell himself to the highest bidder.”

“Money or power?”

“He’s almost as rich as Calverson, so money’s not a big motivator. No, he wants what he hasn’t got: power.”

Michael frowned. “But if the
NRA
topples Polk and DocSec,” he said, “the power Malfroy would have as Teacher of Worlds disappears. So why would he go along? He won’t.”

“We don’t live in an ideal world.”

There was a long silence while Michael digested the uncomfortable fact that solving the Calverson problem wouldn’t be easy.

“So suborning Malfroy is most likely impossible,” Michael said eventually.

Ruark nodded. “I’m afraid so.”

“Why not kill both Calverson and Malfroy?”

“Same problem, different person. Henry Ndegwa is third in line, and he understands the game every bit as well as Calverson and Malfroy.”

“Bloody hell. Help me here, Martin. How can we fix this? We need to.”