First Command (22 page)

“This way commander,” Boris said, indicating toward a room off to the side with a tinted glass wall and a handsome oak door. Outside the door stood two Army Jagers. Jonathan returned the Army Special Forces men’s salute as he and Krishna entered the conference room. Inside, around a large oval Terra oak table sat the leaders of the New Helsinki system. Governor Li Curtis, a grey-haired woman in her late fifties, sat at the head furthest from where Jonathan stood. She was dressed simply for a Landed and a Governor, forgoing the regalia of her office in exchange for a simple grey pantsuit, like the kind one might find on a merchant banker, or middling solicitor. However, the gold-bordered purple sash she wore denoting her position as a former Senator, and the Chain of Office around her neck with the Solarian Sunburst seal at the clasp showed her rank - a Governor-General of the Solarian Republic. Governor Li had been nominated by the Senate, approved by the Premier, and vested with the highest civil and military position in a client star system. She had been given supreme authority over all servants of the Solarian state, and endowed by treaty with the right to advise and consent the governance of the system in which she resided.     

To the Governor-General's right sat Brigadier Daimion Treos, Commander of the Interior Troop Forces, which collectively were referred to as the 1st New Helsinki Corps, or the 1st Corps for short. He was a hulking bull of a man with a face like a boxer. On the Governor-General’s left was a Navy Commander who also wore the crossed hammer and shovel of the Engineers, and had a squashed frog-like face. With his cap removed, Jonathan could see he was balding badly and trying to cover it with regrow treatments, which was causing his hair to come back in patches. Jonathan marked him to be Tao Juan the CO of the Engineer Brigade currently working on a number of projects across the system, the most important of which was the construction of the orbital elevator. Also present, were two Customs and Rescue Service Captains, two National Police Public Order Officers, one Lt. Colonel and one Major, most likely the head of the National Police training and liaison unit and his XO, a Helsinkin Major-General, several civilian officials, some of which were Solarian in suits while others were definitely locals who wore garish outfits. Additionally, there was one lone Army Lt. Colonel who wore the tall shield and crossed lightning bolts of Orbital Defense Command.  All of them were far too engrossed in conversation and debate about the origin of the recent attacks to notice Jonathan, so he merely clicked his heels and braced in formal salute stating,

“Lt. Captain Pavel, Commanding Officer of RSNS
Titian,
reporting as requested.”

Lt. Krishna also came to attention and spoke,

“Lt. Krishna, RSNS
Titan
Communications and Intelligence, also reporting.”

The Governor looked up sharply. It was all Jonathan could do not to flinch. Li Curtis had done her time as Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs under Hu Jen Culbert and Leto Stratman's coalition Liberal-Democratic Populist government, and before that she had been one of the Liberal’s more fearsome foreign policy hawks in the Senate. In that time, she’d acquired a reputation as a shrewd administrator and calculating politician, and also a somewhat well deserved nickname the ‘Piranha’.

“Good to see you made it Captain,” She said in a tone far too similar to the harshest school marm. “Please be seated, we have a situation and your input would be helpful.”

Jonathan nodded in acknowledgement, and took a seat next to the CRS Captain whose nameplate read Hu. Krishna diligently stood behind him.

Brigadier Treos was first to speak, “So let’s review the situation.  We’ve had fifteen confirmed attacks in Haggerdam in the past half hour with three more reported in New Oslo, and another four at the Auxiliary base on Greater Floky. All the attacks outside Haggerdam were small hit and run affairs, or sophisticated timed explosives that our sensors weren't able to detect in time. Haggerdam on the other hand,” the Brigadier scolded, “can only be described as a near uprising. My Intel officers estimate that no less than 700 insurgents took part, joined by at least 300 sympathizers and opportunists. The good news is that Colonel Unpar reports the situation is under control, and the last two pockets of insurgents are surrounded with no way out.”

The Governor-General’s face was far from amused “Gentlemen, what is happening? This planet has been a Solarian client for almost a standard decade, and in that entire time the total number of major attacks would equal the same number that have occurred in the last 24 hours.”

Treos answered, “My men report most of the insurgents were armed with surplus Terran equipment. Many POWs under interrogation report having trained off world, and most of them are former ex-pats who fled after our initial invasion. Somehow despite
our
best efforts,” the Brigadier over emphasized the
our
and glared daggers at the CRS Captain who returned them. “They’ve managed to secure a pipeline for men and material from off world, with funds to support it.”

The Governor’s expression was less than pleasant, “And who, pray tell, wants to explain exactly how these insurgents are getting in, and where is their funding coming from?”

“I can try to answer one of those Governor,” Anthony Garrett said as he strode calmly into the room, and sat down opposite the Governor. He was calm and collected, and also covered head to toe in blood, which was clearly fresh. Upon his entrance, most everyone in the room noticeably flinched. In Jonathan's case, it was pure surprise at Garrett’s gore splattered outfit, but from the others the look on their faces ranged from horror to disgust, to outright fear.

“Apologies for my appearance. We had a little mishap with a prisoner on the way over here.”

The Helsinkin general looked sick, “Oh Great Gods man!?” he cried in heavily accented Chinglish.

“No General,” Anthony said his expression neutral “It’s not what you think. The Governor was quite clear that I’m not to lose my temper after what happened last time.” The glance he gave the Governor showed Garrett wasn't happy with that order.

“One of the men we were transporting tried to escape. He thought he was quick, but I was quicker,” Anthony absent mindedly wiped the blood from his cheek as he spoke, “Tried to take me hostage, but I got him in the carotid with a knife. He bled out quickly. At any rate, we were discussing the insurgents funding and source of supply. Captain Markem the chart if you please!” Garrett shouted out the still open door.

Not ten seconds later, a pale, round OMI Captain stumbled into the room holding a rolled up paper chart and a stand on which to place it.

“Close the door man. This is all Code Word and above,” Garrett admonished the pasty Captain.

After shutting the door, and setting up the stand, the still gore drenched Garrett, and Captain Markem who was obviously terrified by his superior unrolled their chart.

“Now as you can see,” Garrett said, indicating the graphs, “We’ve isolated the source of funding for the NHLF to Redlands Capital Trust on Mars. Every month an amount ranging from 5 to 6 million Solars is deposited into an account controlled by the United Fund for Refugee Relief ostensibly to help the, and I’m quoting here, ‘victims of Solarian Imperial Aggression.’ A small amount of money does wind up going to various refugees, most of whom would find themselves bound for a short drop and a sudden stop if we ever got our hands on them. However, the majority of the funds are being sent to various fronts throughout ETO territory some of which are companies with salvage and disposal contracts for Hera, New Delphi, and the like. The Terran Federals stockpiled a huge arsenal to keep the outer territories in line, and square off against anyone outside the core who thought they could grab a system here or there. Since the New Union Treaty was signed thirty years ago, the ETO central armed forces have shrunk 90%. The new system defense militias gobbled up the best kit, but there are still weapons depots galore. Many enterprising systems have been selling off these arms to ‘respectable’ buyers mostly single system states or backwaters. However, a substantial chunk of the arsenal is being filtered to rebel groups, quasi states, pirates and terrorists, usually through multiple intermediaries. In the case of the NHLF, we’ve been unable to pin down the trail as far as the Locke system, which is also where their recruiting New Helsinki ex-pats, mercenaries, and adventurers for their self styled New Helsinki Democratic People's Liberation Army. This conventional force will some day, according to Yaguard Swerjick, invade and liberate the poor oppressed Helsinki people from the vile, Solarian imperialists.”

The Helsinkians in the room muttered quiet curses at the mention of Yaguard’s name. The man was by all accounts mad as a hatter and far worse than his father. Still, those who had profited from the old regime had a stake in seeing it returned, which was enough to motivate some to fight for the mad man. Garrett continued,

“Even though there is a obvious and unhidden presence of New Helsinki Liberation Front and NHDPLA, Christ that’s a mouth full, elements in Locke, somehow the Yaguard government in exile is loading men and materiel onto freighters and depositing them here. However, we’ve been unable to find out how they're getting through our customs screening, and moreover what their end goal is. What's more worrisome from my perspective is that Yaguard is missing.”

“Missing?” Governor Curtis said in a dangerous tone. “Care to explain Major?”

“It’s simple Governor,” Major Garrett replied. “The OMI team tracking Yaguard’s movements reported in three weeks ago. He’s gone, his cabinet is still in Locke as is a cadre of the NHDPLA, but Yaguard has vanished. The current theory among analysts is that he’s making a surprise trip to Paradiso to appeal to the Coalition for help. Not that he'll get it.”

“Your opinion usually differs from those of your analysts, Major,” Brigadier Treos said. “What do you think happened to the little tyrant?”

“Honestly Brigadier, I think he’s here. I think that Yaguard sees an opportunity to force us off his world, and he wants to be here when it all goes down.”

The reaction to Garrett’s statement was cries of ‘rubbish’ ‘hogwash’ and various other disclaimers from the other assembled Officials. Garrett for his part held up his hand, “Still, its just a theory.”

“Thank you Major,” Governor Curtis said. “You may be seated.”

Turning to the senior Helsinki officer present, the Governor asked, “General Borlov, what is the condition of the Auxiliaries and how quickly can you mobilize them?”

The General shifted somewhat uneasily. He looked almost out of place in his gaudy uniform, and his voice was heavy accented, “Madam Governor, currently the New Helsinki Provisional Police have 750,000 men under arms globally, not counting local police units. In addition to that, the Auxiliary Forces have 125,000 men mobilized, we can call up all the reserves within 72 hours, and provide an additional 900,000 men globally, but Madame Governor I would counsel against any mobilization at this point.”

“Oh, and why is that General?”

Jonathan knew why. Despite the huge numbers that the General was throwing around, a 2 million man planetary defense force was a paltry sum when you looked at how big a planet actually was. Solarian clients usually maintained a fairly large Auxiliary force to maintain internal order and support Solarian Military operations, but Solarian Military doctrine was very true to the old mantra of never being too reliant on your auxiliaries. So although local forces like the New Helsinki’s were numerous, they were poorly equipped for a protracted military campaign, being better suited to quell riots and local insurrections.

The General as it turned out had a totally different answer to the question.

“Madame Governor, while I agree that the… what is the word...,” “Actions sir,” one of his subordinates provided. “Yes, actions to date have been appropriate, further escalation would be a mistake.”

“I’m inclined to agree with General Borlov,” Treos chimed in. “We have a handle on the attacks thus far. If we call up the Militia now, and put more troops on the street it will only provide a richer target environment. We should focus our efforts on pursuit and apprehension. Once we find a cell, we gather Intel, and then use that to hit the next one, and unless they’re well organized we’ll be able to roll up a sizable chunk of the network.”

“Of course gentleman, it doesn't make a damn bit of difference if we can't choke off the source of their weapons and personnel,” Curtis said her Medusa glare now directed at Commander Hu the Skipper of one of the two Customs and Rescue Service frigates in the system, and the senior CRS officer in system thus saddled with the responsibility for all customs work.

“We’re trying to identify the smugglers’ route Governor, but our sweeps have turned up nothing. Several arrested insurgents have been identified as passing through customs, but they had no incriminating evidence at the time, and they landed at all six major spaceports, often in the company of honest travelers. Despite our best efforts, we can't find out how they’re landing arms. If we could identify that, we’d put a major dent in their operation.”

Jonathan had a thought, “Commander Hu, I have a question.”

Hu looked daggers at Jonathan, most likely assuming that Jonathan was looking for an opportunity to promote the Navy’s competence over the CRS’s incompetence. Jonathan didn't blame him for thinking that. It was all part of the political game the armed services played.

“Have you thought they might be using dead pods?”

Hu’s expression changed to one of thoughtful contemplation. Dead pods were an old smugglers’ trick. Rather than landing with contraband cargo, and risk the wrath of the law, smugglers would load their erstwhile goods into orbital drop pods and jettison them in low orbit. On scopes it would look like a trash dump since the pods had no guidance systems. However, once the pods entered the atmosphere they’d deploy air brakes, retro rockets, and parachutes to slow to survivable landing velocity. Once the pod touched down, it activated an innocuous transponder summoning the smugglers or their accomplices to come retrieve their cargo.  “We’d looked into it, but our com networks haven't picked up any transponder signals from dead pods. That being said though, there's a lot of wilderness on this planet.” 

Jonathan nodded, “It occurred to me that Major Garrett mentioned the vast quantity of Terran Federal Union surplus available. Someone could be using old Terran Marine Cargo pods that are stealthed and have low frequency transponders, very hard to detect. It also occurred to me that since this planet has an abundance of oceans and uninhabited or sparsely inhabited coastline, your gunrunners might not even need transponders. Just drop the pod where it hits the water, and anyone with a basic understanding of the tides would be able to get a good idea of where it would wash up to within a ten mile radius. That’s the maximum range you'd need to calibrate the transponders.”

Hu was nodding now, “It’s an interesting theory El Cap, but the drop zone would have to be precise. It'd be tough to vector a series of freighters into it, unless...” Hu slapped the table. “Unless you used a small ship on a regular route.”

“Preciously Commander. It’s what I’d do if I were a smuggler,” Jonathan responded.

“Well good lord be thanked you're not El Cap, or we’d be in some trouble,” Hu responded. “Of course Governor, that doesn't solve the manpower issue, but it’s a step in the right direction,” Hu said.

“You let me worry about their manpower,” Brigadier Treos said. “The last few months we’ve been holding back, but now I’m going to show those buggers what a Napalm sunburn looks like.”

Turning to the Governor, Treos spoke for the table, “Madame Governor, with your approval I’ll convene a quick planning session with my staff and representatives from all services, and we’ll formulate an appropriate action plan we can present to you by the end of the day.”

The Governor nodded.

The meeting broke up soon after that. The Governor made sure to thank Jonathan and Krishna personally for being present before sequestering herself with her aides in her private office. Jonathan, who had no desire to be sucked into a planning session, sent Mr. Krishna as
Titan’s
representative. He instructed him to present the analysis from
Titan’s
own staff meetings, volunteer liberal use of the ship's communication equipment and Marines, but not to let Treos bully him into anything, and of course to ring Jonathan on his memo pad if he had any specific questions.

“This will be a good opportunity for your Mr. Krishna. I sat through plenty of planning sessions back on Solaria. Treos and his staff will have something worked out from pre existing case studies, then they’ll ask for our input. Just be as cooperative as possible.”

“Aye sir, I won't let you down, sir. Can I ask where you will be if I have a specific question?”

Hearing his stomach rumble Jonathan smiled, “I’m going to get lunch.”

Jonathan found the canteen easily enough. It was located three floors up in the basement of the main building. Despite the state of emergency, the staff was going about their business as if nothing had happened. Jonathan helped himself to a plate of some kind of local cuisine very similar to seafood curry, as well as a cup of tea before finding a private table in the corner. The local staff seemed in a positively cheery mood. Many had ash circles on their foreheads. Several who were in between moments of work were fidgeting with small metal pendants that looked like a T with a line through them.

“Captain Pavel, mind if I join you?”

Jonathan looked up. Major Garrett stood over him, still dressed in his gore-splattered fatigues.

“Uh, certainly Major,” Jonathan did not like this fellow, and judging by the reaction in the briefing room he wasn't alone in those feelings. Still, it wasn't wise to be rude to a man covered in dried blood.

“Thank you Captain,” Garrett sat shaking his head, “This is such a bloody mess.”

“I’m sure you can get it out with bleach,” Jonathan said in a feeble attempt at humor.

Garrett blinked at him then continued, “The whole situation is a bloody mess. All our projections, even mine, didn't predict they'd be this bold. Uprisings in civilian centers always end badly, and what's more they expose their network pulling down months or even years of hard work. And why strike now? Why not wait until the Feast of Ascension. It's only two weeks away?”

Garrett seemed to be talking to himself as much as he was talking to Jonathan, but still Jonathan asked, “The feast of what?”

Garrett jerked his head toward one of the ash marked locals who muttering to himself behind the dessert counter.