The War for Profit Series Omnibus (97 page)

The Mosh High Chief paced in front of his five Clan leaders, stopped and stared at them. “Sit!”

They sat on flimsy fold-up camp stools. The warehouse they were in was a sturdy steel structure, their command skimmers parked behind them inside the building. The High Chief’s command tank, an eighty ton monster, was behind him. He said, “We are still wining, there is no doubt our victory is certain. But it is taking longer than expected and we are losing more warriors than anticipated.”

“We—”

“Silence!” the High Chief turned his back, climbed up on his tank and reached inside, removed a fold-up chair and climbed back down, set up the chair and sat facing the Clan Chiefs, sat on it hunched forward. “Speak.”

The first Clan Chief said, “The current operation is still salvageable. We have taken three of the four upstream bridges intact. The one farthest to the south was destroyed, but it was the least important to our plans.”

The High Chief said, “As we all know, the Northern Province must be cleared. The Mandarins have mobile space lasers and they pop up in coordinated attacks that damage our transports that carry our women and children and livestock and servants. This must stop.”

The second Clan Chief said, “It will taken longer than expected, it will be a difficult fight.”

The High Chief made a sweeping gesture with his left hand that encompassed the first two Clan Chiefs. “You two, my own sons, were tasked with getting across that river and conquering the Northern Province. Instead we are here wondering how it is possible to fail, how it is possible we lose more in this fight than all previous losses that came before. Your cousins, my nephews, they are doing quite well and want to breach the Central Province’s western defenses and charge right into their capitol city, stab at the heart of our enemy and end this war.”

The High Chief’s operations specialist, an unarmed man wearing green coveralls, made his way from behind the command tank and stood at attention on the High Chief’s left side. The High Chief said, “He will share his thoughts. He will speak freely and take your questions at the end.”

The operations specialist said, “Thank you, Chief.” He relaxed his posture and stuffed his hands into his pockets. “For the most part, the opposition is lightly armed and poorly trained masses of draftees, called up to defend their home world with little preparation for war. Our generally aggressive, straightforward tactics work well against them and we’ve made great headway. However, we are now running into their regulars and they are putting up an effective fight. They are fielding new equipment, individual weapons that are effective against our chain mail body armor as well as shoulder-fired weapons that are effective against our armored vehicles.

“They are also building armored vehicles that in many cases outclass our tanks, although in very limited quantities. That is not surprising. We had to bring our armor half way across the Galaxy while we fight right at the gates of their factories. The most interesting of their tank designs, causing the greatest threat to out advance, is a new vehicle they call a ‘peoples tank.’ It’s a gun carriage with a charge six laser cannon pointing right out of the glacis plate. It’s comparable in performance to our own MS-100 tank destroyer, although it lacks adequate mobility for offensive operations.

“This people’s tank relies on a gas turbine engine for mobility, and then draws power from an external electrical power source for its weapon. In some cases, an escort vehicle with an adequate fusion engine has provided power but generally they tap into the power grid of the towns and cities they defend to have the energy necessary to fire their main gun.

“I suggest it is essential to continue the current operation. This river valley is the heart of their industry and seizing it will prevent them from producing more tanks. The plan to spread out from there to conquer the
Northern Province is secondary, something we can delay for an indefinite period. As for a breakout in the south followed by a drive to seize their capitol, that is feasible but will not end the war; crushing their industrial base will reduce our losses. That is our focus. When our conquest is complete we’ll need living warriors to occupy this planet and exploit the population. Warriors can’t help us from Valhalla.”

The second Clan Chief said, “You speak of new tanks and the Mandarin Regular Army, but there is another force at work here, something unexpected. Yesterday I had two divisions of my best warriors wiped off the map.”

The High Chief waved his operations specialists away, gestured for another man in green coveralls to approach. The second man said, “I have compiled battle reports and done extensive analysis and research. There is a Mercenary Brigade, called the Jasmine Panzer Brigade, in Chong-gok op. It is supported by three brigades of Capellan Confederation Marines equipped with medium powered armor. They also have a squadron of Interceptors, responsible for seventy percent of our bomber force losses. They were the ones who gave us a bloody nose at Cherry Fork, and they stand against us now.

“Analysis shows they are the single greatest threat to our forces, due to their high degree of technical and tactical expertise and superior equipment. Attacking and destroying them under the most favorable conditions would mean a loss ratio of five to one against us. Add in factors such as terrain and Mandarin military support and that number goes way up very quickly.”

The High Chief said, “Thank you,” and waved the intelligence specialist away. Then he turned to his three nephews and said, “I have a job for you three. Learn what you can about these mercenaries and then create a task force equal to them. Take warriors from each of your clans, organize and train them and put a leader in command of them who can think independently. He will report directly to me and I will charge him with the mission of meeting this Jasmine Panzer Brigade in battle, to keep it busy and out of the larger fight. You have six weeks to make this happen. Do you understand?”

The eldest nephew said, “Yes, Chief.”

The High Chief waved them away with his right hand. Then he said to his sons, “Conquer the valley and take their factories. But be mindful that we may need to use those factories to build more tanks for ourselves. Failure is not an option.”

The two remaining Clan Chiefs stood. The elder one said, “Father, we will not disappoint you.”

“I know. You may go.”

They left. The High Chief drew his sword and pulled a stone from his pocket and began sharpening the blade. The blade was already as sharp as it would ever get. Sharpening it was just something he did to help him focus, help him relax.

Galen stood in the hatch of his command tank and monitored comms. For three days it had been quiet, too quiet. Then the Mosh to the west had pushed into the industrial town across the river and took it in two days. Then the call came from the guard detachment on the west side of the bridge: “They’re here.”

The fire support officer laid down fires to keep the Mosh away from the other end of the bridge and a company of mechanized infantry went across on the lowest level of the bridge and established security. Galen said to his driver, “Let’s go.”

The Lion command tank pulled out of the residential garage where it had been hidden and made its way to the east end of the bridge. The Hercules heavy tank battalion was there waiting. Galen moved to the head of the column and said, “Herc six, follow me.”

They crossed on the top level of the bridge, to let the Mosh see them, for psychological impact. The Stallion and Hellcat tank battalions crossed on the level below, and the Light Tank battalion and Cavalry Squadron crossed on the bottom level of the bridge. Galen popped has hatch and looked. The river was two kilometers wide, its surface smooth, the skyline of the city on the opposite bank reflected in its surface. The Hercules tanks fired as they moved, picked targets along the river bank at first, and then shot into the buildings. Suppressive fire for the most part. Not many identifiable targets, just good guesses at where an enemy might be. Galen dropped down and closed his hatch, fired short bursts from his cupola rail gun into a few windows in the distance.

After crossing the bridge he parked off to the left side and said, “All yours, Herc. Good luck.” Galen popped his hatch and looked around at the buildings. They were office and apartment buildings, most of them ten to twelve stories high.

“Roger. Herc Six out.”

The Hercules tanks spread out left and right on the riverfront street and stopped with a platoon facing up each of the streets. They exchanged fire briefly with Mosh defenders, neutralized the threat, and then waited in silence. Marines in battle armor ran across the bridge and fell in behind the heavy tanks, a company behind each platoon. These groups pushed foreword and stopped at the far end of the block.

The helos then came and placed light infantry on the roofs of the buildings and they fought their way down to ground level. The heavy tanks moved forward another block and the Marines cleared more buildings. The medium tanks spread out on the riverfront street and took up the far left and right flanks. More Marines came and fell in behind them. The Helos shuffled more light infantry around, set them onto the roofs of the buildings where the Marines met tough resistance.

The task force clawed its way forward to the center of the city and then paused, expecting an armored counterattack that never came. Galen’s tank was parked next to an oversized bronze statue of a Mandarin political leader that stood tall in front of the main steps of city hall. The fight was over, but an occasional blast of anti-aircraft fire from the task force met incoming indirect fire from scattered Mosh resistance.

Galen called Tad, “Hey Three, where’s the Mosh armor? I’m getting bored.”

Tad called back, “Sorry, Six. Their armor is hung up on a pocket of Mandarin resistance, in a town about forty klicks west of you. It could be a couple of days.”

“All right. That bridge wired to blow?”

“You know it.”

Galen said, “That’s it then. We’re withdrawing.”

“Gotcha. Sending the orders now.”

Four Mosh fighter-bomber aircraft dove and strafed. Galen ducked inside his tank and heard fragments from a bomb dropped nearby spatter the side of this tank. He then stood and saw three of the fighter-bombers smash into the sides of tall buildings. The fourth one climbed and was shot in the ass by half a dozen laser cannons and burst into a thousand pieces. Galen surveyed the area around him and saw no significant damage to his troops. He set his cupola gun to acquire and fire at incoming artillery, knowing the Mosh aircraft had likely reported the location of his units. He then buttoned up and listened to the noise of artillery shells bursting far overhead, taken out before they were close enough to do real harm.

The withdrawal was slow and deliberate, the perimeter slowly shrinking like a collapsing balloon as the task force units made their way back across the bridge. Some Mosh tried to peruse, but the
Ajax tanks were on the east bank of the river overlooking the bridge.

Galen crossed last and then moved to the side and faced back toward the bridge. He called Tad, “We’re out.”

Tad said, “Not bad. We lost three tanks and eighteen troops over there.”

“Yes. Take down the bridge when you’re ready.”

“Roger. But it just won’t be the same without a column of Mosh armor on it.”

Galen said, “We can’t always get what we want.”

“I know. The bridge is coming down in a few seconds.”

Galen closed his hatch and watched through optics. Blasts at the anchors for the suspension bridge’s cables went off first and the road surfaces began to slacken. Before they fell two meters, heavier charges went off at the bridge supports, all of them simultaneously, at the water line. The explosions caused Galen’s heart to skip a beat, despite the dampening effect of the armor of his tank. The four main pillars fell with the road beds and a cloud of dark dust and smoke obscured the view. The Ajax tanks and other fire support units dropped a spread of incendiary rounds on the city across the river, a pattern that set thirteen blocks ablaze in a semi-circle that fanned out from the far end of the destroyed bridge.

A gentle breeze eventually cleared the smoke from the destroyed bridge and Galen popped his hatch and looked. The bridge was now a ribbon of rubble lying on the bed of the river. “Nice.”

The sun set and Tad called Galen and said, “On your order, Six.”

“It’s dark enough. Move out.”

The
Ajax tanks pulled back first and got on the main road out of town heading east. The rest of the task force fell in behind them and convoyed along the paved highway. The Interceptors circled high overhead and attacked any Mosh fighter-bombers that got too close to the convoy. The task force made it back to the Jasmine Panzer Brigade Compound a couple of hours after sunrise and stood down.

Chapter
Nineteen

Captain Davis, the Fire Support Officer for the Jasmine Panzer Brigade, stood wearing her soft cap over her curly brown hair, a strand of it in the corner of her mouth. Her thoughtful amber eyes stared toward the horizon as she chewed the end of her hair, her strong jaw line moving side to side slowly, her high, round cheeks bulging slightly with the practiced effort. Her gray and green mottled combat coveralls were cinched to her waist by her gun belt, giving her an appearance of more of an hourglass figure than usual, the loose material of the coveralls allowing extra room for her full figure.

Ahead of her were parked the five Ajax tanks. It had been a week of hard work, getting them back up to ten-twenty maintenance standards but it was worth it. They were now clean and serviceable and as functional as they had ever been, except for one important detail. The busted concrete beneath the tracks they left pulling into the motor pool gave evidence of their greatest flaw. With the lifters removed they weighed 95 tons. The lifters had reduced their footprint to fifteen tons, but the lifters were removed and shipped to Fairgotten, to prevent that technology from falling into Mosh hands.

That disability made them useless as tanks, but the
Ajax vehicles were still excellent fire support vehicles. She heard footsteps approaching from her right and looked. Colonel Galen Raper approached. When he was within six paces, she gave a proper hand salute. “Good evening, sir.”

Galen returned the gesture. “I heard you’re fit to fight.”

“Yessir. The assault guns, the self-propelled howitzers, and the Ajax are all straight. No deficiencies noted on the final service inspection.”

Galen said, “It’ll be a couple of weeks before the rest of the task force will be ready for more action. You and your people can enjoy a little down time.”

She said, “Thanks. It’s getting a little chilly.”

Galen said, “Winter is coming. Wouldn’t surprise me if it snows next week.”

“Might have to find my jacket.” She rubbed her arms.

“Major Polar has winter gear ready for issue. We’ll hand it out before we leave the compound again.”

“Too bad about Chong-gok. I really liked it there.”

Galen said, “It’s a shame. The Mosh tore it up, and a brief attempt at a counterattack by the Mandarins leveled the whole place.”

“It’s weird, remembering a place that is no longer there, where I can never visit again. It claws at the soul.” She stuffed her hands into her pockets, shivered slightly.

“I…I know. And the fact that we’re partly responsible, that hurts too.”

They stood and stared at the Ajax line. Galen said, “Have you heard about the solar flares?”

“Yessir. That’s part of the reason I’m out so late. When it gets darker we might be able to see the ionosphere light up from here.”

Galen peered at the horizon. It was getting dark, and as it got darker the sky to the north began to glow with blue and green streaks, lights that danced like flames of a distant fire from the horizon to the sky, to an angle as high as nine hundred mils in places.

Captain Davis said, “It’s beautiful.”

“Yes.” Galen put his left arm around her shoulders.

She didn’t object, grateful for the heat of his body next to hers. After a moment she said, “I’ll bet ops has plans for that solar storm.”

Galen said, “In two weeks we’ll be under it. Right now it’s just blowing out the side, barely clipping our atmosphere. Ops has plans. The EM of the flares will screw up unshielded gadgets. Everything inside the armored vehicles will function normally, but fighting will be all line of sight and dumb bombs. Good for you, for artillery.”

“How’s that?”

“Air defenses won’t be able to stop your rounds. Better yet, the Mosh bomber-fighters aren’t shielded well enough to fly under those conditions.”

She said, “What about our aircraft?”

“Have to ground the helos, of course, but out Interceptors and the Marine’s assault boats, they can fly. They’re aerospace craft, designed to deal with the radiations of raw space.”

“I like that. We’ll have a clear advantage, a real opportunity.”

Galen’s voice wavered, “Tad said the same thing. But for now we have a couple of weeks to rest.”

Captain Davis said, “You need a hug?”

Galen said, “I didn’t think I was your type.”

“You’re not. I just want to stand here like two human beings for a while.” She turned into him and wrapped her arms around his waist. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and they turned their faces to the north and watched as the lights in the sky grew in intensity. After a few minutes they stepped apart and went their separate ways.

***

Colonel Baek entered Tad’s office and said, “Can we talk?”

Tad sat up on the couch where he’d been sleeping, stood and removed the poncho liner and said, “Sure, have a seat.”

Baek sat. “I’m sorry to disturb your sleep.”

Tad sat at his desk and said, “No problem, sir. I’m at your disposal.”

Baek rubbed his hands together. “Do you have a plan for extraction?”

Tad flexed his hands. “Working on it. The problem is known jump points. The one I have in mind takes us to Alamo, but I think it’s known to the Mosh. The other two points, one is blocked by the Mosh right now. The second one, the Mandarin Space Force is parked near it. I’m not so sure they’ll let us go.”

Colonel Baek said, “I have a pirate point that puts us in the star system of the capitol planet of the Capellan Confederation.”

Tad turned and pulled back the curtain of the window behind him, pointed at the lights in the sky. “That will make space travel difficult.”

Baek said, “We’ll have another go at the Mosh before we leave, of course. In eight weeks or less, that solar flare up will end and then we can get the hell out of here.”

Tad said, “I’ve been looking at possibilities. Do you think the Mandarins will go for a negotiated peace with the Mosh?”

Baek scratched his head, shrugged. “Anything is possible.”

Tad closed the curtain, stood facing toward Baek. Colonel Baek stood and said, “Thank you for you time.”

“Not a problem, sir.”

Baek turned and left, closed the office door on the way out.