The Terran Mandate (19 page)

Command Decision

Dekker picked up another rock and threw
it as far as he could, watching it tumble through the air, pushing its way
through the sky with all the vigor he had been able to put behind it. It hit
the ground and kicked up a satisfying clump of dirt before coming to rest.
General Lane's voice echoed in his head as he told Dekker to hunt down the most
effective weapon the MEF had to defend against the Terran Guard - to prevent
what he could only assume was the real reason why he could no longer contact
the General. Lt. Simmons's voice came next, telling him she had come along for
the sole reason of making sure he didn't carry out that order. He put his hands
on his knees, shook his head and scoffed. Between the two of them, they had
managed to run him in circles and put him in the middle of nowhere, helpless to
do anything but take it. They were chasing their tail while the enemy moved
forward, the only ones who seemed to actually know what the hell they were
doing.

His headset chimed. "Enforcer Six,
Enforcer Six. This is Bravo Company, First Battalion, over." Dekker froze,
uncertain he had actually heard the transmission. The voice crackled again.
"Enforcer six, Enforcer Six -"

Before the voice on the other end had a
chance to finish, Dekker slapped his headset hard enough to make his ears ring.
"This is Enforcer Six Actual, go ahead." His eyes flitted across the
ground as he let a slow breath whistle between his lips.

"Enforcer Six, Bravo Three. Uh,
sir, we're outbound from a one click offset south of MEF on bearing two eight
five and sure would appreciate a fix to rendezvous."

Dekker squinted and pressed his thumbs
along his brow. He should have fetched the darling of intelligence and had her
vet the call. He should have sent her on a combat patrol to verify exactly who
it was once they had a fix. But they didn't have time for any of that.

"Bravo Three, Enforcer Six,
authenticate bearcat." The line clicked off. Dekker curled his lip and
shook his head. His stomach knotted when he thought of having to ask Simmons to
recce whoever was claiming to be coming in from MEF, but it seemed like he
wasn't going to have much choice.

His headset crackled. His eyes flew open
at the sound of the wheezing voice straining to talk to him. "Enforcer
Six, this is Farmboy, over."

"What's your name?" Dekker
asked.

The voice wheezed back at him, the words
weakening. "Sir, this is Jommy Ford." The voice faded out with the
last words he was able to manage. "They took Mama's cups."

Dekker shuddered and dropped to one
knee. He drew in a deep breath and pawed the ground until he found another
rock. He heaved it with a grunt, exhaling as if to blow the rock through the
air. He sucked in another breath and said to himself, "Alright then."

The original caller came back on the
line. "Enforcer Six, Bravo three, will that work for now sir?"

Dekker felt power ebbing through him,
pushing out the web of confusion that had settled into his mind since he had
left Lane's office. Something made sense. At the same time, something told him
not to rush into it.

"Bravo three, that'll do for now.
Work up a sampled sequence on the hour with back card Zulu One for this date
and call me back."

"Sir, we're in a gocart here. We're
running in a logistics rig. We barely have a radio and our batteries are in
pretty bad shape."

Dekker gritted his teeth. "What's
your name, Marine?"

"Sir, this is Corporal Ortiz,
second squad, third platoon Bravo."

"Alright, Corporal. Maintain your
current heading. We'll be the bivouac station on your left. Can't miss
it."

"Roger Enforcer Six, Bravo Three
out."

Dekker stood up and marched back to the
tower. "Badger."

"Go ahead Colonel," Lt.
Simmons said. Her voice was calm, casual even, as if she hadn't told him that
her orders were to undo everything he was trying to accomplish. The only
explanation had been that she had orders. They had each played that card. As
much as he hated to admit it, they were even on that score.

"We have some guests inbound. Tell
your east side patrols to keep an eye out. We need to prepare a
debriefing."

An hour later, Dekker, Lt. Simmons and
Corporal Ortiz sat at an abandoned table on the second floor in what had once
been a dining room. The grills and warmers were long cold and the only light
came from the shafts of sunlight that clawed through scratched plastic windows
and the dust-ridden air inside.

Corporal Ortiz sat with one foot under
the table and the other off to the side, as if he needed to be ready to run at
a moment's notice. He leaned on the table with one elbow and stared at the
wall. Dekker knew he was listening, though. Combat taught a man to think about
things without having to see them.

"Corporal," Dekker said,
"I know there's a lot to tell, but we need to take this in order. We have
a situation on our hands and what you tell us here will determine our final
decision, so please be accurate and specific."

Corporal Ortiz nodded. "You'll get
my best report, sir."

Lt. Simmons said, "Our first
concern is the communications array on the MEF headquarters building.
Specifically the dish antennas."

Corporal Ortiz shook his head.

"What did you see?" Lt.
Simmons asked.

Without moving his eyes, Corporal Ortiz
said, "They just lined up their tanks and blew the living fuck out of the
compound. They didn't leave a single building standing."

Lt. Simmons shifted her gaze to Dekker
and eased back in her seat. "What about the S-2 bunker?"

"They got that, too. They used
demolitions. For the line bunkers, too. It was a real show."

"Alright, Corporal," Dekker
said. "What's the status of the MEF?"

"That's a little trickier,
sir" Ortiz said.

"Take it a step at a time,
Corporal."

"They came off the line with a
single front attack. Honestly, there's not much to tell there. They pinned us
in the compound. We couldn't maneuver and they gained fire superiority before
we could even move to our alternate positions." He shifted in his seat,
raised a fist to his mouth and cleared his throat. "Once they had us tied
down, they sent an element to Dirt Hill to round everybody up." For the
first time since they sat down, he looked at Dekker. "That got ugly fast.
There was nobody up there to help those people. Everybody ran. A few made it
out, a bunch got rounded up." His eyes sagged as his gaze shifted to
somewhere behind Dekker. "The ones they couldn't catch - they shot them in
the back as they ran."

Dekker felt his own eyes shift away from
Corporal Ortiz. "Where's the tricky part, Corporal?"

"We were distributing ammo in the
gocart before all this happened. When the attack started, we were at the ammo
bunkers getting ready to load." He tapped his knuckles on the table.
"It was my call, sir." He looked at Dekker, waiting.

"Go on Corporal.  You said you'd
give me your best report."

"We didn't even try to join the
line. I told the driver to turn and head for the notch. We didn't see how
things ended up, but there's no way, sir. They either got stomped or taken
prisoner. Once we got away from the fight, we waited for a while to see if
anybody else made it out of there, but all we found were the few civilians we
brought with us. We never saw anybody from MEF again."

"What weapons do you have?"

"Just our personal weapons, sir. We
don't even have a squad weapon. We're a heavy fire team at best."

Dekker nodded. He wanted to reach across
and take the man's hand, but he could tell Ortiz was a Marine who stood on his
own two feet, for better or for worse. "You did the right thing, Corporal.
You guys were never expected to hold back the entire First Brigade." He
caught Simmons shooting him a glance.

"How do you mean, sir?" Ortiz
asked.

"It was symbolic. The rest - don't
worry about it right now. You did the right thing."

"Sir, I have to say this, because
my guys all feel the same way." His boot scuffed the floor as he moved his
leg further away from the table. "If the Paladin had been there, it might
have worked out, you know?"

Dekker leaned back and looked straight
into Ortiz's eyes. "Yeah, I know." Turning to Simmons, Dekker asked,
"Do you have anything else, Lieutenant?"

"No sir," she said,
"except to add that you did do the right thing, Corporal. Your report has
provided us with some very important information. Thank you."

"You're dismissed, Corporal,"
Dekker said. Ortiz stood up, assumed the position of attention and then turned
to climb down the ladder leading to the ground level of the tower. Dekker
clasped his hands on the table and leaned forward. Lowering his voice, he said,
"So that's it, then. We have my battalion, your two squads and the Paladin
to deal with the entire Second Brigade."

"And they have their First Brigade
in reserve," Simmons said. "I'm sure our guys gave them a bloody
nose, but they're free to maneuver and reinforce the Second if it comes to
that."

Dekker sucked in a breath through his
nose and let it out with a grunt. "Which means we're a reinforced
battalion up against a light division. We can join the Paladin and fight it
out. We probably can't take them, but it's an option we know we have for
sure."

"Option B," Simmons said,
"is to establish the uplink. The risk is whether or not we can find
suitable equipment, including a dish antenna. If we make it work, we have a big
gun, if not -"

"Then the Paladin is on his own and
we'll be stuck with what's left of Second Brigade. And who knows, after the
Paladin is done with them, maybe we'll be able to finish it."

They sat in silence as he pondered their
options, letting them tumble over each other in an endless spiral of answers
that guaranteed nothing. There were no orders to lean on. There were no more
conversations to be had. All that was left was a decision, one that only he
could make.

"One way or the other," he
said, "I get the feeling this is going to be the last fight."

"Yep."

"I'd hate to leave that satellite
sitting up there waiting for somebody else to get their hands on. Call the
Paladin. Let him know we're going try and set up a track."

Simmons smiled. "Aye aye sir."

Pladin's
Briefing

Major Walker pulled back on both control
handles to bring his Cat to a stop. His Cat swayed forward as the stabilizer
servos surged to bring the Cat back to a stable stance. The Cat to his left
took a few steps forward and did the same. The next Cat took a few more steps
and stopped as the last Cat in the platoon of four took its final steps and
halted, finishing the echelon formation with Walker at the base.

"Line pivot right," Walker
said into his microphone. He pulled up the elevation handle and the turbine
lifter fired to bring the Cat a few feet off the ground. He eased the pedal
under his right foot forward to rotate the Cat 45 degrees before easing the
elevation handle back down. The frame rattled as the Cat thumped to the ground.
His cockpit shuddered again as the rest of the Cats landed in near unison. He
checked the alignment of the four Cats, which were all within a few feet of
making a perfectly straight line, ready to advance as a single firing line on
the smoke marker representing their target. "Good line," he said.
"That's good for now. We'll pick up with bounders this afternoon."

He powered down his Cat and released the
canopy hatch. The heat of mid day rushed in as the ladder extended itself to
the ground. As he swung out of the cockpit and climbed down, puffs of wind
rippled his uniform and scattered grit against the Cat's metal skin.

He stepped off the bottom rung when his
headset chimed. "Two Bravo Delta, Badger Six."

"Go Badger."

"Operation AF is a go,"
Simmons said.

He stood at the bottom of the ladder as
the wind started kicking up boiling billows of dust and scooted them past the
pyramid. "What's the schedule?" he asked.

"We don't have numbers on time yet.
We have some prep to do here. Contingent is to reinforce if you come under
attack before we can finish over here."

"Our last estimate on Second
Brigade was for 34 hours. Tell Dekker to get his ass in gear."

"Will do. There's something else
you need to know. We lost the compound."

For the first time since he could
remember, Walker felt a flash of fear run through him. "Understood,"
he said. "Two Bravo Delta out." He surveyed the terrain around the
Pyramid, reviewing - again - the likely avenues of approach, elevation changes,
defilade and the best locations for setting up his defense. The problem with
his Cats was they were too big to hide. They were stand-off weapons systems,
and on their own were not good for taking or holding ground. Now, he had to
figure out how to do both.

As the wind began whipping grit across
his boots, he pulled his collar up to shelter his face and trotted to his
command tent. The pilots he had been drilling with were right behind him as he
ducked into the tent. One of them coughed as somebody pulled the zipper down to
close the flaps. They huddled around the plastic tables covered with charts and
tablets as the wind howled around the light poles outside and sand scraped
along the outside of the tent.

"Well, since we're all here, I
might as well brief you," Walker said. He picked up a remote connected to
a monitor mounted on a portable tripod. As he punched buttons on the remote,
the screen filled with a topological map and zoomed out to show the area
between MEF headquarters and the Pyramid.

"As you all know, the Terran Guard
Second Brigade is on the march from their compound, heading straight for us.
Our estimates put them somewhere in the Delta Five sector here." He
pressed a button to display an infantry brigade marker showing the Second
Brigade's position east of the Pyramid. "According to Colonel Harris of
the MEF S-2, and confirmed by communications with Badger, attached to the
Enforcer Battalion, Colonel Dekker has a single operations STI shot with a
track somewhere in this region." Surveying the room, he saw most of his
officers staring back at him wide-eyed. A few let their mouths fall open. The
lone exception was Captain Holt, who knitted his brow, but otherwise didn't
react.

"Where's the track?" Holt
asked.

Fixing his gaze on Holt, Walker said,
"We don't know yet." He let go of Holt's gaze and resumed his
briefing. "Colonel Dekker, with his Enforcer battalion, will establish an
uplink and provide us with the track at that time."

"Where is Dekker now?" Holt
asked.

"We don't know," Walker said,
zooming the map back out. "He was dispatched from MEF two days ago."
He zoomed in on the MEF compound and overlaid a red X. "Since then, the
Terran Guard's First Brigade launched a deliberate attack on MEF headquarters
and wiped out both First and Third Battalions."

A murmur scuttled through the tent.
"Then we need to go back," somebody said

"What about the colony?"
somebody else asked.

"What are we doing out here?"
another asked.

Walker put up his hand, signaling for
them to all quiet down. "That's enough," he said. "There's
nothing we can do about MEF or Dirt Hill right now. What we can do something
about is the Second Brigade. They are heading this way and we will be waiting
for them. Our mission is to lure them into the track so Dekker can take them
out with his STI shot. After that, we'll link up and deal with the First
Brigade." He zoomed the map in on the Pyramid. "This is our one shot,
gentlemen. Right here. If we miss, Second Brigade will finish us off along with
the Enforcer Battalion. After that, none of your questions will matter."

He caught Holt's eyes again as his XO
studied the map. "Any thoughts on this, Captain Holt?"

Keeping his eyes on the map, Holt said,
"I'm just wondering how we're supposed to know how to deploy if we don't
know where the track is going to run."

"I'm sure we'll hear from Dekker as
soon as he's ready. In the meantime, we wait."

"Maybe I could go over there and
keep an eye on things for you, sir."

Walker stepped away from the table and
walked up to Captain Holt. "We don't know where he is."

"Seems we ought to find since he
was sent to find us."

Major Holt blinked and cocked his head.
"I don't remember saying anything about Dekker's mission. What makes you
think he's after us?"

Holt's eyes darted to look at the floor
and then back to Walker. "I guess that seems like the best reason for him
to be here considering everything that's happened."

Walker smiled and strode back to the
table. He picked up the remote and turned off the monitor. Setting the monitor
back down, he said, "Yes, I suppose so."