Graham Paul - The battle for Commitment planet

"No, sir," Michael said. "Must say, everyone's assumed you'd suspend the death sentence. Everyone."

Adrissa shook her head. "No, Michael. That's not right. Not everyone. Not General Vaas, for starters."

"General Vaas?" Michael said, puzzled. "How is this any of his business? This is a Fed matter, surely."

"I think so, but he does not see it that way. You see, Michael, when he said, 'Your people must be part of the NRA,' I agreed with him."

"Oh," Michael said with a frown as he worked out what Adrissa was trying to say. "So that means treating Sasaki the way the NRA treats any of its people caught dealing with the Hammers?"

Adrissa nodded. "Yup."

"And… you'd like me to go and talk to Vaas, try to talk him around?"

"Knew you were a smart boy, Michael. Yes, that's exactly what I want. We've done it informally. We've done it formally. I've tried, Commander Rasmussen's tried, Lieutenant Commander Solanki's tried, but we can't shift Vaas."

"Oh, shit," Michael whispered. "I'm sorry, sir. Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I am. I want you to see if you can change his mind."

Michael grimaced. "That's a big ask, sir."

"I know that," Adrissa snapped. "For chrissakes, Lieutenant, just do your best."

"Sorry, sir. I didn't mean to question the order. It's just… it's just, well. I-"

Adrissa's hand went to chop him off. "I know that," she said softly. "Do your best. It's all I want."

"Sir."

"General Vaas will see you now."

"Thank you, Major Hok," Michael said.

Hok waved him in without another word. Talk about mission impossible, Michael said to himself.

Vaas looked up with a smile when Michael entered his private office, a cramped space furnished with a battered desk, three chairs, and a simple bunk. Vaas looked surprisingly alert considering it was two hours past midnight, the fingers of his left hand playing with the sunburst at his neck in a restless, fretting display of the energy that drove the man. Michael knew why Vaas looked so cheerful. The previous twenty-four hours had been good ones for the NRA. Operation Fender had unleashed a carefully coordinated torrent of death and destruction on the Hammers: four DocSec convoys ambushed with every one of the black-uniformed scum they carried dispatched to meet their precious Kraa, a convoy carrying supplies to the marine base at Besud ambushed and its contents looted, a new Hammer firebase close to the beleaguered town of Daleel overrun and destroyed in one of the NRA's trademark human-wave attacks, four senior DocSec officers careless enough to travel in a thin-skinned mobibot killed by a culvert bomb outside McNair, a pair of fliers carrying PGDF brass back to McNair hacked out of the sky by Goombah missiles, and countless minor attacks against DocSec and PGDF all across the McNair basin, with yet more attacks on soft targets across Commitment. Operation Fender had not stopped there: NRA units on Faith and Fortitude, the second and third planets of the Hammer Worlds, had not been idle, launching attacks on hundreds of soft targets.

Altogether, not a bad tally, Michael decided. Vaas had every right to look pleased; the Hammers' propaganda machine had no chance of keeping that much bad news under wraps.

"Take a seat, Lieutenant," Vaas said, waving an arm. "Let me guess. You are here to talk about that mercenary piece of Hammer-loving shit Sasaki"-Michael's heart sank-"am I right?"

"Yes, sir." Michael nodded. "Captain Adrissa asked me to talk to you."

Vaas's head went back, mouth open as he roared with laughter. "Oh, Kraa help me," he said at last, wiping tears from his eyes. "You Feds"-he shook his head-"I'll never begin to understand all that sanctity of life bullshit you seem so keen on. Come on, Michael! There's a Kraa-damned war on. Sasaki deserves to die."

"Yes, sir. He does. That Hammer air-defense battery nearly nailed us."

"Well?" Vaas said. "Sasaki deserves to die; you just said so. What's the problem?"

"The problem, sir, is that the Fed Fleet hasn't executed a spacer or marine since the day it was founded. We neurowipe the really bad ones, lock away the rest for reeducation. That's our way of doing things."

"I know that," Vaas said patiently, "and it's one of the things I like about you Feds. Whereas us Hammers? Death, death, and more death." Vaas's face darkened. "Kraa! Sometimes I think killing's the only thing we Hammers do well."

"So," Michael said, a tiny glimmer of hope springing into life, "maybe it's time to change that."

With a shake of the head, Vaas crushed the flicker into the dust. "No, it's not," he said with a sigh. "Maybe when this war is over, but not now. We can't allow a Fed traitor to be dealt with any differently from anyone who betrays the Nationalist cause. We cannot afford to. Your Captain Adrissa doesn't seem to understand that. If I let Sasaki off the hook, if I allow a Fed to escape the firing squad, it'll drive a wedge between us, a wedge that'll be Kraa's own job to pull out. It will be hard enough for your guys to fit in as it is. So the answer's no. That's not because I'm an asshole but because I cannot have two rule books: one for Feds and one for the rest of us. I'm sorry. The sentence must be carried out."

"But sir-"

"No, Michael," Vaas said firmly. "That's it. You've done your best, and I respect you for it, but that's my decision. If it makes Captain Adrissa feel any better, tell her I asked the Resistance Council to rule on the matter and their answer's the same. This is not the time for experiments in social engineering. You, your people, your technology are only assets if the average NRA trooper accepts and can work with them. If there's suspicion or mistrust, it all becomes one huge liability, and I can't afford to let that happen. This war's tough enough without spending hours every day trying to persuade everyone to get along. You understand?"

"Yes, sir. I understand. I'll tell Captain Adrissa," Michael said. A wave of revulsion swept over him. Sasaki deserved to die, but Michael knew he must accept some responsibility for the man's death. How many more before this damn war was over and they all went home?

"Good," Vaas said. "Ask her to talk to Major Hok when the appeals process is finished. We'll help with the arrangements. You don't have to scratch too deep to uncover the Hammer in us," he said with a crooked half smile, "and death is what we Hammers are really, really good at."

"Sir."

"Fine," Vaas said with a broad smile. "Now that's out of the way, I want to talk to you about an operation we have in mind. Operation Pendulum we're calling it. We've held your lot back, but I think the time has come to see how well you can fight."

Michael's heart sank. Vaas was notorious for not needing much sleep, a trait Michael did not share. He liked his eight hours. "Yes, sir," he said. Comming his neuronics to drop one of his precious drugbots into his bloodstream, he resigned himself to a long night. Thursday, October 11, 2401, UD NRA Disciplinary Facility 13, Branxton Base, Commitment

Fed spacers and marines were arrayed down one side of the cave, a large, harshly lit space dominated by a single splintered post sunk into the ground in front of a bullet-pocked wall of limestone, the air acrid with the smell of pulverized rock. Beyond them, a small group of NRA officers waited; Vaas was nowhere to be seen.

Michael swore under his breath, sickened and angry at the same time. He felt sickened by what was about to happen and angry that Adrissa had detailed him to be the officer in charge of the firing squad. "We're here because of you, Lieutenant," she had said in tones that brooked no argument, "and this is one of the consequences of the decisions you have made."

Choking off a protest at the blatant unfairness of Adrissa's words-Sasaki had been a Hammer spy long before he ever turned up-Michael had confined himself to a simple "Yes, sir."