Stark's Crusade (38 page)

"But things have changed. We've worked with the civs up here. They've helped us, and stuck by us when they could've screwed us over. They're doing it now, I promise. Talkin' to the new government about how to fix things. You all know that new government got rid of an awful lot of officers, right? They're gonna screen the ones who are left, make sure they can do the job, make sure they stick to military stuff and stay out of politics. Regardless of what happens to me or any other senior noncom, the mil is gonna be better tomorrow."

"It's gonna be better if you guys stick with it. You know how it should work, now. Treat your people decent, focus on what's important, get the job done right. You can pass that down, and apply it yourselves when you become senior noncoms. And teach it to the new officers."

"I don't know what the new government's final offer is gonna be. I don't know if they'll let all you guys remain in the military. I told 'em you should, that you've done what you were told and done it well. But that mission's over and you got a new one, now. You know what it's like, when you've been on a really difficult campaign. It's hard, it's ugly, but at some point you realize you're over the crest and everything is downhill from there because you've done what you needed to do. Okay, that's here and now. The Colony is safe. The war up here's gonna end, they say, for at least a while. The rot that was tearing the mil apart is finally being ripped out. Most important, there's a new government, one that looks to be by, for, and of the people again. So there ain't no excuse for not following orders anymore. We're U.S. military. We don't mess with the Constitution. We defend it. Whatever the new government offers, we take it. That's our job. Any questions?"

A long silence descended, then a corporal stood. "Commander—"

"Sergeant. Let's keep it regulation from now on."

"Okay, Sarge. What happens to you?"

"I dunno. Probably something real serious. I started it, I ran with it, I commanded it. I already told 'em, if somebody has to pay, that's me." A low murmur came from the soldiers before him. "Responsibility, soldiers. That's the way it works. Don't do something if you're not prepared to live with it."

A private stood next. "Sergeant, are you saying we really might be able to be official again? Go back home and everything?"

"That's what I'm hoping for. I can't promise it, though. That's up to the government." Stark watched unhappy expressions settle onto the faces before him. "It's a legitimate government, people. They've got a right to tell us what to do, and we've got a duty to do what they say.
I'm
gonna do what they say, and anybody who thinks I'm gonna get a better deal than they are is welcome to swap places with me."

Another corporal. "Sergeant Stark, what if you're talking a prison sentence for all of us? It could happen."

"Yeah, it could. They'd have to build some more prison space, but they could do that. I don't think they will. We know they've let the Second Division people out and rearmed them, so the new government's not as stupid as the people they replaced. They know they need you. To keep defending this Colony. To help defend the country. But here's the catch; if you want them to trust us, we're gonna have to trust them. That means taking orders, whatever they are."

"What if they tell us to shoot you, Sergeant?"

"Then you do me the favor of making sure you hit clean. I don't want any lingering death scene. Understood?"

A second private. "What if we don't want to, Sergeant? We tossed out a bunch of idiots who were telling us to do something stupid. This sounds stupid, too. What if we don't want your deal?"

"Then head for the perimeter and offer your services to a country that wants that kind of soldier. Become a merc, fighting for a pay check. I don't care. We fight for our country, not ourselves. As long as I'm in charge, we'll take whatever's offered."

A third corporal stood. Anita Gomez, her face hard. "I ain't got no question,
Sargento
. I just want to say I've followed you for a long time, up close and personal, and I ain't never regretted doin' whatever you said was right. I'm gonna follow you now, too." She sat, leaving silence in her wake.

Finally, a fourth corporal came to his feet. "Sergeant Stark? When will we know what's gonna happen to us?"

"The representatives from the new government are arriving in three days. They've got a meeting scheduled already at 1400 Thursday. That's where we're supposed to get our marching orders."

"So I guess we all oughta have a beer Wednesday night, huh, Sarge? Just in case it's the last one for a long while?"

Stark grinned as the other soldiers laughed. "Sounds like a plan. Save one for me. I'll try to drop by."

"Sure, Sarge."

Vic waited for him off the stage, nodding at Stark as he left. "Good job, soldier."

"You think they're gonna do it?"

"I'm sure of it. They'd follow you to hell right now, Ethan Stark, trusting you to somehow beat the devil once they got there."

"Hah! How about you, Sergeant Reynolds? Would you follow me to hell?"

"Let me think about that. I am willing to follow you to the nearest bar, though."

"Let's get the rest of the staff together for that. Just in case we don't get another chance."

Thursday. 1400 in military time, or 2 p.m. as civilians measured it. The same conference room where a succession of government and military representatives had threatened the lunar soldiers and colonists numerous times. Now representatives of a new government, with new military guidance, were waiting inside. Stark and Reynolds came to a halt at the door, where Campbell and Sarafina awaited them. "Not a big group this time, huh?" Stark observed.

"This time the negotiating has been done in advance," Sarafina advised. "We only need to review the agreement."

Stark extended his hand. "It's been nice working with you, Mr. Campbell. You, too, Ms. Sarafina."

Campbell shook hands, his grip firm on Stark's. "That sounds like a farewell."

"It might be, sir. I figure there's real good odds I'll leave that room under guard."

"Sergeant, I don't know exactly what the new government will offer, but I've done my best for you."

Reynolds stepped forward. "You really don't know what their offer to us will be? Even now?"

"Sergeant Reynolds, I only know that they've asked a lot of questions and wanted to see a lot of records. They've listened to what I and the other representatives up here have said. But they've kept their cards very close to their chests."

A few moments later, Stark found himself sitting at the familiar conference table, looking across it at the representatives of the new government. He'd somehow expected them all to be young, full of fire and idealism, which had caused him some considerable concern. Young idealists tended to do really dumb things in the name of their ideals because they hadn't the experience in life to know better. But many of the representatives were middle-aged or older, seasoned veterans of their own campaigns. Down at one end of the table, Lieutenant Colonel Hayes sat along with a couple of junior officers whom Stark didn't recognize. Hayes nodded in silent greeting to Stark, his poker face not revealing any emotions.
I guess here's where I find out if I did the right thing saving that guy's butt.

A civ woman stood carefully, wobbly in the unfamiliar gravity. "As a first point of order, we must be certain of the status of the military forces here. We are all too aware that nothing can be done if the military resists."

Stark stood, ramrod straight, and saluted. "The U.S. military forces assigned to the defense of the American Lunar Colony are ready to receive orders from the government's representatives and our superior officers."

"What exactly does that mean?"

Lieutenant Colonel Hayes spoke up. "I believe Sergeant Stark is telling us his forces are no longer in a state of mutiny. Is that correct, Sergeant?"

"That is correct, sir."

Instead of replying directly to Stark, the woman looked over at Campbell. "You are surrendering prior to reaching an agreement?"

"Not exactly," Campbell advised. "We still need to reach an agreement. But as I have advised you, Sergeant Stark has told me in no uncertain terms that he, as a soldier, cannot negotiate with the government. He feels he has to accept your orders."

"I see. Sergeant Stark, if this is the case, why did you fail to accept orders for so long?"

"Ma'am, things happened that nobody wanted to happen. If someone, anyone had been willing to just listen and think. . . well, it's a long story, but we've been trying to straighten this out ever since then. I accept full responsibility for all acts—"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure you do, from all I've heard," the civ woman interrupted. "It appears we may proceed, then. You may sit down, Sergeant. As our second issue, I am authorized to apologize on behalf of the government for past actions against you. You, Mr. Campbell, and the colonists you represent, and you, Sergeant Stark, and the soldiers you have led in the defense of this colony." She made a gesture, and one of the other representatives tapped in some commands on his display. "Here is our offer. Please take a moment to read it."

Stark glanced at Vic, then they both turned to their displays and began scanning the text. Stark read rapidly, skimming in search of key words and phrases.
Amnesty for past actions by civil authorities. . .
restoration of civil rights within the Colony. . . vote on statehood during the current session of Congress. Fine. Wonderful Where the hell's the part about my people?
He read on, finally finding the subsection dealing with the military forces.
Amnesty for all enlisted personnel for all acts committed during a period of civil unrest. . . reaffirmation of oaths of fealty to the Constitution
. . .
all acting officer assignments formalized and confirmed by appropriate promotion.
Stark blinked, looking back over at Vic. "What about me?"

"It says 'all enlisted personnel,' Ethan."

"That can't include me."

"I don't believe it, either, but how about that bit about officer assignments being formalized?"

"I didn't think about that yet. Why? What do you think it means?"

Vic spoke so only Stark could hear, her voice hidden by murmurs from others at the table speaking to their neighbors. "It means, Ethan Stark, that I'll have to start calling you general."

"What?" Stark scanned the text, his eyes wide. "No. That's not possible."

"That's what it has to mean, Ethan. You will be formally appointed to command the division and promoted to the appropriate rank for that position."

"That's ridiculous! There's no way—"

"Is there a problem, Sergeant Stark?" Stark looked up to the see the civ woman eyeing him.

"Uh, ma'am, I was just attempting to determine the meaning of the document."

"Which specific portion?"

Vic spoke up as Stark hesitated again. "He's wondering what the phrase 'all enlisted' means."

"Exactly what it says."

"Ma'am, Sergeant Stark and I are also enlisted personnel."

"So I have been informed. Are you saying you don't want to be covered by the agreement?"

Reynolds stared at the woman. "Are you actually granting him amnesty? As well as the rest of us?"

"That is our intent."

"Then your offer is extremely generous, ma'am. Frankly, it surprises us. A great deal."

The woman smiled back. "I'm sure it does. I understand you've been told to expect the death penalty for your crimes."

A man near her nodded. "We reviewed your actions very carefully. Had you committed crimes against the United States or her citizens, you wouldn't be getting this offer. There have been deaths, on both sides. In one case, you executed a soldier for his role in an attack on you." Stark tried not to let his distress show at the words, a reference to Private Grant Stein's betrayal of them and his subsequent court-martial. "That particular case was of special concern, and even though we found you acted with every appropriate formality to ensure a legal outcome, we wish that had not occurred."

"Me too," Stark whispered too quietly for anyone else to hear. "But the documentation surrounding that court-martial was complete, indicating you were personally willing to accept responsibility for your actions and decisions."

"I still will," Stark declared, louder this time. "Nobody else has to be blamed or punished. It was my call."

The man shook his head. "In light of all that has happened, we must add that particular case in with all the other deaths and events which everyone wishes had never taken place. Otherwise, everyone believes you all acted always in the highest traditions of your service. I believe that's the appropriate phrase?"

"It will certainly do," Vic replied. "I must confess, at best we expected dismissal from the military. Yet this offer says you trust us to continue on active duty."

"Of course it does," the woman stated. "You had the ability to do anything you wanted, eventually, including what might have been a successful attack on the United States herself. Yet you have kept the Colony safe, you have followed the instructions of civil authorities in the Colony and your actions have been directed toward the protection of our country and our citizens. We are well aware that some of your number died heroically as part of that effort, such as the Wiseman and Gutierrez individuals and their crews who we see have been recognized in the new name of the Colony spaceport." The woman nodded toward Lieutenant Colonel Hayes. "And, of course, we cannot forget the risks you took to ensure the survival of forces which were here to attack you. Actions speak louder than words. If the last few decades of experience with national leaders have taught us anything, they've taught us that. Your actions, especially those on behalf of others, speak for themselves."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"Don't thank me. You earned this amnesty, and the ranks you are being offered, by your actions. Had you acted differently, you'd be under arrest at this moment. But I believe if you'd acted differently our country would have faced a far worse crisis. The government owes you a debt as well as an apology, and it's about time we started acknowledging our debts."