The War for Profit Series Omnibus (21 page)

Major Ross leaned over and stared straight into Galen’s eyes as he brought him out of stasis. “Wake up, sunshine. We have work to do.”

Galen stared back and then remembered what was going on. He felt as though he’d only taken a brief nap. “If I remember correctly, I have thirty seconds before I’m responsible for my actions. I might have to kick your ass.”

“In that case I might have to wait five minutes before I release your restraints.”

The lid of the stasis pod was open but Galen was still strapped down. There was no getting over on the Major; he thought of everything. “Are we there yet, sir?”

“You have ten minutes to get yourself on the drop boat. Full gear.” Before he left, Major Ross pressed the release button on the restraints so Galen could climb out of the pod and onto his feet.

“Welcome to the world of the living.” Tad was already dressed and reached into his equipment locker for his war gear.

Galen opened his own locker, a steel cabinet at the foot of the stasis pod. “This ought to be an easy year. Boring, I hope. What’s up with the gravity? Aren’t we in space?”

Tad clipped his pistol belt around his waist. “This ship has inertial dampers.”

“Sweet.” Galen pulled on his combat coveralls. The material seemed stiff; then he remembered it had been in the locker for three months. He reached for his combat vest and shrugged it on. He pulled on his boots and asked Tad, “Aren’t we on the opposite side of the galaxy now?”

“Yup.” Tad brushed the inside of his helmet before he put it on.

“What does Myung Jin want with a spaceport way out here?”

“Maybe they want to start trade with the Mosh.”

“Mosh don’t trade, they take. It’s against their religion to trade.”

Tad and Galen made their way to the drop ship and found Major Ross.

“You two. Sit down and watch this.”

They sat on either side of the Major. He pointed at a screen on the bulkhead opposite their seats. He pressed a button on his armrest and an informative video describing the planet Alamo started playing. There were rings, the remnants of a moon that had broken to pieces a couple billion years before. Automated terraforming machines had been working on the surface for three hundred years and it was now fit for human habitation. The gravity was point nine six, despite the planet being slightly larger than Terra itself, owing to the lower density of the materials making up the planet. The surface was 90% covered by oceans with thick mats of algae growing in them. The spaceport was being constructed on a large island. It was the largest land mass of the planet, located near the northern magnetic pole, where the median surface temperature was 18 degrees Celsius and ranged from 4 degrees to 23 degrees.

At that point of the informative video, Major Ross switched the monitor’s feed to the pilot’s view to observe the drop boat’s landing. The drop boat undocked from the jump ship. Galen buckled his seat belt as he felt the effect of the larger ship’s inertial dampeners fade. On the screen he saw the bright rings of Alamo, on edge at first looking as thin as a sheet of paper and then more substantial as the drop boat headed for the island base. The rings left the screen as the drop boat came closer to the planet. The oceans were grey with very large splotches of blue and green algae spread around, floating in a mottled pattern not too different from leopard spots. The drop boat flew low over the base first, which gave Galen a good look at the landing field and the beginnings of foundations for hundreds of buildings all along one side. The other side of the landing strip was right up against the water with a bright edge of white boulders to prevent the sea from eroding the land on that side. The drop boat turned around and came back to make a hard, short landing before taxiing to a stop near a row of temporary tin shacks. They stepped off the boat onto the surface of the landing strip.

“Welcome to Alamo,” said the Major. Galen and Tad followed him through the rows of shacks until they came to a sturdy concrete building sunk halfway into the ground. “That’s my Tactical Operations Center and that tin shack right behind you is your quarters. Stow your gear and meet me inside.”

Tad said, “Sir, that shack looks a little small for the two of us.”

“You work shifts, twelve up and twelve down. You split one shack.” The Major walked off and entered the TOC.

Galen looked inside the three meter square hut. One bed and two lockers. “Crap.”

Tad put his bag in the first locker. “We’ll fix it up. I’ll scrounge or build a desk and chair. You can find a flat screen or something. It’ll be fine.”

“Well at least we’re right by the office and the shower house and chow hall aren’t too far away.” Galen tossed his bag onto the bed.

“Oh hell no. We have to share. When you leave this area all your stuff needs to be in your locker and the place has to be clean. Hot-bunk rules.”

Galen put his bag in his locker. “Okay, hot-bunk rules.”

They went to the TOC and entered through its only entrance, a steel door at the base of the steps that led down a meter and a half from ground level. The guard post was still vacant because the TOC was not yet operational.

Major Ross met them and led them into the central room. “The tactical control equipment gets put in tonight so this is where you’ll be working. Through that back door is my office and my quarters behind that. When you’re on shift I might or might not be working. When I’m here in this room, I’m the boss. When I’m not, it’s you. Understand?”

Galen said, “Yes, sir. What is the limit, I mean, what kind of decisions can I make without consulting you?”

Major Ross stared at Galen. “I’m paying you to make decisions. Deciding to ask me about something is a decision, but not always a good one. When time is of the essence it’s better to ask forgiveness later than permission now. I’ll cash any checks you write and then deal with your ass later. You’ll get a feel for the limits of your authority as we go along. Right?”

“Right.”

“Okay. A team is coming to set things up. You and your buddy will tell them where to put everything and will stand by until all the systems are up and running. Here’s my sketch of how I want things arranged. It’s sketchy on purpose because you two will be the ones working in here. Set it up the way you want it.” Major Ross handed a half sheet of paper to Tad. There was a sloppy diagram of a table in the middle of the room, two desks against each of the left and right walls and a thin line labeled ‘main screen’ on the wall right beside the entrance door. “Have fun with it. I’m going to sleep.”

Major Ross came out of his office and stood at the head of the steel conference table bolted to the floor in the middle of the Tactical Operations Center. “Gentlemen, we’ve been here two weeks and today we go operational. Congratulations.”

Four commanders sat around the table in metal fold-up chairs. Galen stood by the entrance door with Tad, who was there a few minutes early for their shift change. They recognized Master Sergeant Sevin but the other three commanders were new. One wore a fleet uniform.

The Major continued, “Okay, around the horn starting with fleet. What you got?”

The commander in fleet uniform wore the naval rank of Commander and said, “We have six 240mm automatic guns deployed on this island, removed from that scow we found stuck in the rings. They’re old but effective. Also, we have twelve air defense lasers and eighteen ground-mobile rail guns capable of direct support, air defense or attacking ground targets. They are currently parked in hardened positions around the air strip and have live crews rotating through them on shifts.”

After a sufficient pause the next commander, an infantry Captain, reported, “We have thirty machine gun crews and two platoons of rifle infantry available to repel dismounted landing forces, if all else fails. We’ll drill and patrol and train on a three, three, four schedule until the threat condition changes.”

“Okay. Next?” said Major Ross.

Master Sergeant Sevin commanded the Aerospace wing and said, “We have twelve interceptors parked along the air strip. I’m pushing to get the hardened bunkers built and then the simulator. Until that happens I want to send up one pilot in one interceptor every day so they don’t forget how to fly.”

The Major said, “If it were anyone else I’d accuse them of wanting to goof off. Next?”

The fourth commander was a Captain. He said, “Civil Affairs is working to get a tighter grip on the worker population. They have only eight security personnel to police their twelve hundred workers. So far it’s been easy because the workers have been busy but that will change when everything is built. My fifty four military police and six civil affairs specialists will set up police substations and coordinated patrol routes over the next three days, in time for us to take control of judicial affairs for the entire population of Alamo.”

Major Ross said, “You’ll have your hands full soon enough. There is not one woman on this entire planet right now. Getting some here, that’s your lane, civil affairs. Make sure you get enough to go around.”

“Roger. We can bring in about two hundred as legitimate civil servants, and later about fifty entertainers and bar girls.”

Major Ross said, “Good. Make sure you have tight control over that bar girl income stream. We’ll need a slush fund of some kind to take care of their medical needs. If there’s nothing else, you’re dismissed.”

The four commanders stood and saluted the Major before leaving the TOC. Major Ross went back into his office and closed his door. Galen moved a chair so that it faced across the conference table toward the main screen and motioned for Tad to sit down. He then went to the desk on the left and pushed a couple of buttons and pulled a small toy pistol from the drawer. “Watch this.”

The main screen faded for a moment and then came back as a recessed three dimensional hologram. It gave a view as though one were looking out a window. Through a dense forest, small creatures appeared. Galen aimed the toy pistol and shot at them.

Tad said, “That’s stupid.”

“It passes the time. There are different environments and different challenges. You can shoot at a million Mosh attackers charging at you across a desert if you want.”

“I’ll figure it out. See you at shift change.”

Galen handed the plastic gun to Tad and left. Outside the bunker he turned right and walked toward the chow hall. Above him the planet’s rings looked solid and reflected so much light he could hardly tell it was evening. The main difference between day light and night light was the reduced amount of mid-range hues and the heat. Nights were cooler and less colorful but still bright. Galen stopped and looked up and was just able to make out the slight grey smudge where an old battle cruiser had gotten hung up in the rings. Of course the ship was too far away to see but it disrupted the pattern of the rings just enough to show where it had wrecked.

The planet made a shadow across the middle part of the rings, an area made impossibly dark because the stars didn’t show through. That gave the dark portion a solid look as well. But then Galen noticed a tiny white speck growing in size the way a headlamp would seem to grow as it gets closer to its observer. The entire sky flickered and took on a pale shade of green as the eerie tone of sirens made Galen realize his base was under attack. Galen decided to skip dinner and ran back to the operations center. The guard waved him on in. When he entered he saw Major Ross standing at the head of the conference table and staring at the main screen. Tad was seated at the aerospace auxiliary control terminal.

The Major said, “Welcome back. Now take a seat at the sky battery terminal.”

Galen did as he was told. He observed that the laser batteries found their target was a single Mosh destroyer but they couldn’t fire on it with the base’s defense shield in the way. Galen ordered a single rail gun to fire a two second burst of projectiles at the destroyer. The defense shield only blocked energy weapons, so the rail gun’s bullets could get out but would not reach their target for about two days. And after escaping the planet’s gravity their velocity would be so low it would make their effect on the target negligible at best. It was more of a gesture than anything else. Anyway, it made Galen feel better to shoot back with something. A technician in fleet uniform tapped Galen on the shoulder. “Nice shot, Sergeant Major.”

Galen stood and moved away so the technician could take his post at the terminal. Third-string alternate leaders from the four subordinate commands came in and occupied their respective terminals and Major Ross stood at the head of the conference table to lord over the operations center. The command chair was not yet installed, its delivery delayed by an administrative snafu in the logistics office back on Mandarin.

Galen and Tad had little else to do than sit at the conference table and stare at the main screen. The approaching bolt of synthetic plasma fired from the destroyer filled the screen, made pale green by the filter of the defense shield. Then it vanished in an audible crackle of static and a hair-raising sensation filled the operations center a moment later, for just a moment, and then it passed. The screen gave a clear view of the Mosh destroyer. It was a cylindrical ship facing sideways to bring its plasma cannon to bear, firing broadside at Alamo. A moment later the ship was again hidden behind the bright flash of its gunfire, the bolt of energy appearing gradually larger as it approached.

“Status?” Major Ross.

The fleet technician said, “Shield down three percent.”

“Okay. At this rate we’ll be out of shield in a couple of hours. Ideas?”

Tad said, “We can reduce shield power incrementally faster with each hit so that they think their weapons are more effective than they really are. Then we shut it off so they think our shield is destroyed and then we take out their destroyer with the laser cannons. Then we put the shield back up sooner and stronger than they thought possible.”

Galen agreed but knew it was his job to offer a different course of action for consideration. “Uh, keep the shield at full power and send up the interceptors to take out the enemy ship.”

The Sergeant from Sevin’s aviation command looked at Galen and said, “That’s what they want, to get us out there and ambush us. Not such a good idea. They could have plenty of firepower hidden on the other side of those rings.”

Galen didn’t mistake the Sergeant’s initiative for insubordination and was secretly proud of working with such a knowledgeable professional. But he couldn’t let the little punk talk him down in public. Galen said, “Hey, if you’re scared, just say you’re scared.”

“Enough,” said the Major. “Tad, you have the right idea. Aviation, have two interceptors ready to launch to scout the area around the destroyer in about…two hours.”

The Sergeant said, “Yessir.”

Another bolt of plasma fired from the Mosh destroyer struck the base defense shield. Major Ross cleared his throat and said, “That will take some getting used to. Anyway, switch me so I’m talking to everybody who’s at their duty station.”

Tad pressed a couple of buttons. “You’re on, sir.”

“Attention all and greetings. This is Major Ross, you’re supreme commander here on Alamo.” Major Ross smirked as he paused. “I’ll take this moment to tell you what I know about the Mosh, who at this time have a destroyer firing a particle cannon at our space port. They began as a slave race taken captive and selectively bred to serve as cheap labor by a Terran terraforming corporation, well over two thousand years ago. They revolted against their masters, killed them off and fled to the other side of the galaxy and started their own little confederation. They dug through the databases of the ships they seized and sought their own identity. They most physically resembled the natives of Northern Europe of Terra so they adapted the culture of the ancient Vikings. But don’t worry; they speak Standard just like the rest of us because just like us it’s the language of everything in their data bases. Since then they’ve organized as some sort of empire and are now expanding. Little is known about them as a whole but their military branch is hard and tough. They love to fight. Their equipment and their tactics are rugged, straightforward and conventional. We can and will exploit those weaknesses. That is all.”

Major Ross ran his right index finger across his throat to signal Tad to cut the transmission. After a nod from Tad confirmed the signal was cut, the Major sat down in a conference table chair and rubbed the top of his head with both hands for a moment. Then he looked at Galen. “Well?”

“It was a little sketchy, sir. Maybe a more inspiring broadcast right after we toast that destroyer would boost morale.”

Major Ross stared. “I was just about to say, you are off shift and you need to rest. We have to sustain operations; we can’t all stay up for the whole fight.”

“Yessir.” Galen stood and left the bunker. On his way to the chow hall he witnessed another plasma cannon strike that turned the sky green for a moment longer than before and the hair-raising sensation was a little stronger. A nervous civilian worker plopped standard rations onto his tray. Galen ate quickly because he wanted to get in bed before the next bolt of artificial plasma struck. He jogged to his quarters and sat on his bunk, relieved that the sensation from the next plasma strike didn’t affect him as much inside his metal shack.