No battle plan survives contact with the enemy.
—Helmuth von Moltke
"All day for nine hours we ran. It was the contagion of bewilderment and fear and ignorance. Rumour spread at every halt, no man had his orders. Everyone had some theory and no plan beyond the frantic desire to reach his unit. In ourselves we did not know what to do. Had there been someone in authority to say, 'Stand here, do this and that'—then half our fear would have vanished. So I began to realize, sitting in my swaying car, how important the thousand dreary things in an army are. The drill, the saluting, the uniform, the very badges on your arm all tend to identify you with a solid machine and build up a feeling of security and order. In the moment of danger the soldier turns to his mechanical habits and draws strength from them." Alan Moorehead, on the retreat from Gazala, June, 1942
—Quoted in John Keegan and
Richard Holmes, Soldiers
Olynthos: town at the head of navigation on the Eurotas River (q.v.), Sparta, (q.v.). Established as Fort Tanner during CoDominium administration, 2030. Communication with Lake Alexander and its mining settlements by rail and slurry-pipeline (2060), followed by rapid growth; river-port, fitting out point for outback expeditions, and industrial center. Power supplied by hydro developments on Vulcan Rapids (potential in excess of 1000 MW.). Smelters, refineries, direct-reduction steel mill, mining machinery, building supplies, explosives, general manufacturing. Pop. (2090) 66,227 not including part-time residents.
Description: The town lies on the southwestern bank of the river immediately below the Ninth Cataract of the Vulcan Rapids, in an area known as Hecate's Pool. Most buildings are constructed of limestone blocks from nearby quarries; notable features include . . .
Melissa was down, hurt and bleeding, and shells were falling all around them, but Lysander couldn't get to her. His legs were paralyzed, and when he tried to crawl filthy hands came out of the ground, reached up with slimy fingers to drag him down. Melissa moaned softly, and Lysander shouted to her, shouted that he was coming, but he couldn't move, and—
"Prince."
"I'm coming! I swear it—"
"Prince."
Lysander sat bolt upright on the cot. "Harv. I'm awake. God, what a horrible dream. Melissa, she was— What is it, Harv?"
"Urgent signals, Prince. You're needed in the orderly room. Helots attacking the Stora Mine complex."
"Right. I'll be there in five minutes." He suddenly realized where he was. "My compliments to the colonel, and can he alert the regiment."
"Already being done," Harv said. "Choppers winding up and they're rolling the armor out."
"Right. Thanks."
Colonel Bennington and his senior officers were in the staff room clustered around a map table. "Attention, please," Captain Larry Sugarman, the adjutant, said. They fell silent as Lysander came into the room.
"Carry on, please. Jamie, what's happening?"
"Sir, it's an all-out assault on the Stora Mine complex," Bennington said. "We don't have direct communications, we're getting everything on relay through the Legion Headquarters in Sparta City. General Owensford is on line and would like to speak with you when you have a moment."
Lysander leaned over to study the displays on the map table. "There's a hell of a lot more 'maybe' and 'probable' and 'could be' and plain rumor than real information here."
"Yes, sir, the Helots seem to have disabled the main computer at Stora. Disabled or worse; there are indications they got control of it."
The circles, solid, shaded, and dotted, blinked as the table was updated. Some of the dotted circles vanished, others moved to shaded. A few shaded turned solid as sightings and identifications were confirmed, but there was still more rumor than fact reported on that map table. "Better let me speak to General Owensford," Lysander said. "I'm not learning much here. I presume you're getting the regiment ready to respond."
"Yes, sir. Sergeant, see if you can get General Owensford, please."
"On line and holding, sir," the sergeant said. He handed a headset to Lysander.
"Lysander here."
"Owensford, Highness. Urgent request. Do not send out any air cav reaction force. I'll explain, but that's an urgent advice, sir."
Lysander stared at the map. New data flowed in. The impersonal circles moved or changed sizes, with bright flashes indicating battles. Friendly units shrank as he watched. Confirmed casualties. "Our people are taking a licking," Lysander said. "And they need help. I suppose you have reasons."
"Sir. This is an all out assault, regimental to brigade strength, carried out with full intelligence. They have to know where your units are. Possibly even that you're commanding them. Therefore—"
"I see," Lysander said. "Therefore they've already factored in the First Royals and think they can deal with us."
"Exactly, sir."
"Isn't that called taking counsel from our fears, General? Paralyzing ourselves because of what might happen?"
"Yes, sir, but in this case it may be wise. We don't know nearly enough. What we do know is they were willing to commit in strength to this operation knowing your force was there and ready. The plan was complex: initial attack to draw out the reaction force, ambush that, sabotage the mobile reserve, infiltrate saboteurs—"
"Jesus, and all that worked?" Lysander demanded.
"More than ought to have."
"Skilly," Lysander said.
"Yes, sir, I believe so. I have only intermittent contact with General Barton at the mine, but it's my impression he believes so, too."
"Devious," Lysander said. "So it could be a bluff to keep us from sending reinforcements."
"Sir, she's devious all right, but I can't think the Helots would risk this much on the hope that you'd think it through and not send a reaction force."
"Point taken." Lysander grinned wryly. "And she probably thinks this was a simple plan, not much to go wrong. Advice?"
"Keep your options open. You're our reserve, don't commit yet. You're closer than I am," Owensford said. "And you won't be cut off from direct contact with Barton at the mine forever. You can decide what to do when you have a better idea of what the situation is."
Lysander considered the map again. "Barton's in command at the mine?"
"Yes, sir. Local commander asked him to take over."
"All right. We'll be his reserve until the situation develops. You'll keep me up to date, and get me contact with Barton when that's possible."
"Anything we know, you'll know," Owensford said.
Lysander studied the map table. I'd give a lot for satellite observations. Have to do something about that, there must be a way to convince the CD. And what the hell am I doing, acting like I'm in charge? But it's my job, and no one else is going to do it, whether I get it right or not. And right now— He turned to Bennington. "Jamie, get your two best pilots. Load up two ships with scouts. Have them duck out this way, down river, then swing wide and angle back, one out to each side of the valley. Straight recon mission, with the option of committing the scouts if that looks worth doing. If they've gone to this much trouble to set up an ambush of the air cav, I can't think they'll give it away attacking one ship, but the pilots should be careful anyway."
"Yes, sir. If the Helots can infiltrate a big unit they can have a couple of small ones, too."
"Good point. And any scouts they do drop will need full rocket support. But you know that."
"I'll see to it, sir."
The First Royal scouts were not as well trained as the Legion's SAS units, but they'd been trained by the Legion, and had some combat experience. Training's over. Time to get some use out of them. For that matter it's about time for Sparta to stand up independent of Falkenberg's Legion. "Jamie, General Owensford estimated regiment to brigade strength committed at the mine."
"Yes, sir."
"Then they can't have much left to block the roads."
"Well—"
"How much could they infiltrate up here?" Lysander demanded. "We've had regular air sweeps. Jamie, if they're good enough to have another regiment beyond what's committed already, we're going to lose anyway. Now are they that good?"
"I see your point. No, sir."
"Get the ground units moving upriver. Usual precautions, recon units lead, watch for mines, but get them moving. Keep the aviation units grounded until we figure out what Miz Skilly has in mind. Next thing, get your Intel and aviation people together and figure out where they're planning on engaging the air cav."
"Engage with what?"
"I don't know. Assume something effective."
"Missiles," Bennington said. "Right." He turned to his adjutant. "Larry, who've we got for this?"
"McCulloch and Levy, sir?"
"Good choice. And Captain Flinderman, I think. Give them the assignment and have them report when they've thought of something."
"Yes, sir."
"And get the ground units moving."
Captain Sugarman spoke quietly into his headset. Lysander turned back to the map table. After a few moments the displays changed again. Friendly unit reports became more reliable, although there was still a lot of confusion about enemy strength and locations. Lysander studied the situation carefully. The entire Stora garrison, nearly a full regiment of well equipped and trained Brotherhood troops, reinforced by Legion units, and they were reduced to ineffective and disorganized pockets. What could do that to them? Whatever it was couldn't be small, and he became more certain the enemy had committed all they had. The Helots couldn't possibly have any large strategic reserve, and not much else either. Anti-aircraft missile units, infiltrated and—
Infiltrated where? "Jamie?"
"Highness?"
"Have your experts consider this: a small anti-aircraft missile unit in hiding somewhere along the route from here to the mine, probably close to this base. Not so close they can't get away once they launch their birds, but close enough to observe what we're doing. Preferably with a good escape route through terrain that would halt armor."
"Put that way, Highness—" Bennington manipulated the map controls.
"Right. I see it." Lysander increased the gain on the Decelea Forest, a university experimental arboretum and park north of Olynthos Base. It was easily large enough to hide a company of missileers, it overlooked the Valley road north, and the broken terrain and gullies extended down to the river.
"Hit us, bug out to the river. Without air we couldn't stop them crossing, and that gives them a hell of a head start in getting away," Bennington said. "It's sure where I'd put an ambush for air cav."
"Can't do any harm to send some scouts up there. We might get lucky," Lysander said. He pointed to the map table. "It's about time some luck fell our way, because it looks like we're getting lunched up there."
"Right." Bennington studied the map. "And I think I'll send some artillery units north along the main road, on up past the Decelea turnoff, but not too far past, say to about here, where they'll have that park in range—"
Lysander grinned agreement.
Bennington called his adjutant. "Larry, please ask Lieutenant Arnold to alert his men, then report here. We have a job for him."
Such a simple thing to do. Sending men off to crawl around in a forest until they can bring in artillery shells onto other men. He looked at his hand, and remembered a line from a poem. Just a line. 'The hand that signed the paper . . . these five kings did a king to death." Why do they obey me? They're older and more experienced. He remembered Owensford, during the Dales battle, and later in the rescue of the Halleck boy. At least they try to tell me when I'm making a mess of things. He turned back to the map table.
"Royal Leader, this is Arnold. I have located our objective. We have an enemy unit under observation. They are unaware of our presence, but I can't guarantee that for long if we attempt to close. Visual and IR observation. Data transmission follows, stand by."
Images on the map table swam, dissolved, and reformed as update data flowed in. Lysander and Bennington eagerly bent over the display.
"Missiles, all right," Bennington said. "I don't recognize the type. Let's see if we have a visual." A blurred image appeared on one of the wall screens. "Still doesn't mean anything to me. You, sir?"
Lysander shook his head. "Afraid not. Okay, let's buck this back to the Capital. Maybe the Legion has something in its data base."
"Right." Bennington made adjustments. "Whatever they are, they're anti-air. Give 'em any capability you like, they were looking right down our throats here. If we'd sent the air cav out in a body to follow the highway, or even the river—"
"Yeah. How long will it take Arnold to get into position to attack them?" Lysander asked.
"We'll have to ask him, but I'd give him at least half an hour."
"Please see that your artillery is in place and ready to fire at that time."
"Yes, sir." Bennington sounded enthusiastic.
They studied the map as they waited. The First Royals regiment was poised and ready, all they needed was assurance that they could move safely. And the right objective. If we can find the enemy we can kill them. Definitely need to talk to the CD people. There has to be a way to get some satellite observations.
"Urgent signal from General Owensford for Prince Lysander," Sergeant Roscius said.
"Put him on the speaker. Lysander here."
"Sir—" The word was choked off. Everyone in the command room looked up, puzzled.
Owensford was quiet for a moment. Then his voice turned cold and impersonal. "Sir, the mine garrison is engaging in a spontaneous all out counterattack. It is expected that when the attack makes contact with the enemy it will be repulsed with heavy losses. The counterattack began when the garrison learned that the Helots had used an earth penetrator rocket to attack the hospital and civilian shelter area. General Barton is attempting to halt the attack and reorganize the garrison troops, but he has had limited success. The enemy is retreating. General Barton is worried about ambuscades. He is attempting to halt the pursuit until our forces are better organized.
"Civilian casualties were heavy, amounting to sixty percent in the hospital and may be as high as fifty percent among women and children in the shelter."
The command room fell silent. Someone made a deep growling sound.
"Can you get me a direct link to Stora?" Lysander asked.
"Yes, sir, but I thought I'd better tell you this first."
"Quite correct, General Owensford. I suppose there's no chance this was an accident?"
"No, sir, they threatened to attack the central shelter unless it surrendered. The attack was an earth penetrator missile, specially designed to attack hard targets. It was launched instantly after the Helots ceased communication. There was no time for evacuation. It was deliberate, sir." Owensford's icy calm was beginning to fray.
Cold fury gnawed at Lysander's stomach, but he felt a preternatural calm. "All right. Get me General Barton."
"Yes, sir, I'll patch him through."
"Barton here."
"General, this is Lysander. Peter told me."
"Yes, sir."
"It's not your fault. You couldn't have prevented it."
"I don't see how I could have, sir. But we have five hundred dead children here, and I was in command."
"Can you get me a general circuit? I want to speak to everyone there."
"Klingstauffer, His Highness wants a general circuit. Shall I announce you, sir?"
"Yes, please."
There was a pause, then, "All units. This is General Barton in command center. His Highness Prince Lysander Collins will speak to you now. Your Highness—"
"My people. My sisters and brothers. Please listen. I share your grief, and together we will mourn Sparta's dead. That is later. For now, I have a command. I order you to live. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, stop, take heed, think. You are what the enemy wanted you to be, enraged citizens seeking vengeance, vulnerable to their treachery.
"And THAT IS NOT ENOUGH. You shall be avenged, but you will not be avenged through haste and madness! Vengeance demands victory, and victory demands that we act together, as a disciplined army! Brothers and Sisters! Organize. Organize and obey your officers.
"People of Sparta. I am coming, I am bringing the instruments of vengeance and destruction. Wait for me. And know that this will not end today, not today, and not tomorrow. It will not end until we are avenged. More than avenged. Together we shall pursue these creatures wherever they go, relentless pursuit, until we have killed them all, killed them not only for revenge but to cleanse this land, we shall cleanse this land of all memory of these creatures. They do not deserve to breathe the same air as free men and women, and by God Almighty I swear it, they shall not!
"We came here to this empty land, and we made a home. We built a land of honor, and we offered to share it with anyone worthy, and this is their answer. They cry for their rights. We will give them their due. We will give them justice.
"My brothers and sisters, listen. Do not throw your lives away. Halt and think. Man your assigned stations. Find your officers. Obey them. Organize, make ready, and wait for me. I am coming, my people. Never doubt it. I am coming. God may have mercy on these wolves but we shall not."
"Legion headquarters has identified those missiles, sir. Something new, but the Legion data base has specs on them. Fucking bastards," Captain Tyson said.
Lysander's look silenced him. "Good. Feed the performance data to the air ops commander. What I want is a good feint. Send the choppers out as if they're headed north, but turn away before they're in danger."
Tyson straightened. "Can do."
"Lieutenant Arnold reports enemy alerted," the communications sergeant said. "They're setting up their birds, like they expect us."
"They heard the speech," Lysander said. "Or someone up north heard it and sent an alert. Doesn't matter. They expect us to come running. Arnold in position?"
"Five minutes, sir. Artillery's targeted. Rockets in place."
"Get those choppers going, then. Colonel Bennington, you'll take command of this operation. Hit them, neutralize them, take some live prisoners able to tell us how they got here, then let the constabulary finish them off. I want this regiment headed north as soon as possible."
"Yes, sir. You want me to command?"
"Yes. As soon as we've defeated the ambush, I'll take the air cav and get up to Stora."
"This may not be the only missile force they have."
"May not be, but it probably is. Jamie, they can't cover the whole countryside. We're scouting alternate routes, I'll take one of those, but by God I'm going. They need me up there."
"Aye," Jamie Bennington said. "That they do, my Prince."
Twenty officers and as many civilian leaders were gathered in the command center of the Stora Mine. They greeted Lysander with grim satisfaction. "We waited, Highness," someone said. "Now lead us."
Ace Barton rose wearily to attention and saluted. "Highness. You'll be taking command now. I'd like to go back to the Legion."
"Denied," Lysander said. "General, you will continue in command here." He looked at the grim faces around him. "You'll need an expert," he said. "This is General Barton's work, and he is good at it."
"Not good enough."
"I forbid that," Lysander said. "Until now we didn't know, couldn't know, the true nature of our enemy. Blaming ourselves for not foreseeing this criminal act is pointless. General Barton, you will organize the pursuit. The objective is to harass and punish the enemy, of course, but that's not the main objective. It is far more important that you avoid their traps, avoid casualties. Preserve our people, so that we can win this war and rebuild."
"Speak for yourself," someone said. An elderly captain. "We lost a daughter and two grandchildren. I don't care what happens to me as long as I take some of them with me."
"How many others feel that way?" There were mutters, but before they could answer, Lysander shouted, "That is treason, Captain Caldon." He paused to let that sink in. "I said treason, and I meant it. Sparta needs you alive, not dead."
He strode into the crowd, and stood among them. "We will cleanse this planet," he said. "To do that we must win this war. Not just kill a few hundred, a few thousand, while their leaders skulk off to do this again. We have to defeat them completely, defeat their soldiers and hang those who ordered this. Anything less lets them get away to kill more women and children."
There were mutters of agreement. "How, then?" Karen Olafson asked.
"It won't be easy," Lysander said. "You can't do it alone. A retreat is always faster than the pursuit unless the retreating force is utterly routed, and these weren't. They were prepared to retreat. You've already run into ambushes."
More muttered agreement. "And so did they," Karen Olafson said.
"Yes. That was good work," Lysander said. "Major Olafson hammered them well, but still they were able to screen him out and slip past. This is what they're best at."
"But— Highness, what can we do, then?" Karen demanded.
"Harass them, yes, but carefully, avoid their traps, avoid their ambushes. Kill and capture anything they leave behind. We've already cleaned them out of the Valley behind us. Four different pockets poised to ambush us, and we have destroyed them all. You can do the same. Keep them moving, make them split up into small groups and disperse. Harass them. Many will desert their cause. The rest will be so dispersed they can't do much harm. You'll have this army neutralized, and this is their main force. Brothers, sisters, you do this, and I'll do the rest. Together we'll win this war."
"What about the others? Some of our workers joined this rebellion. We've found them dead, wearing their Helot arm band," Karen Olafson said. "And that awful little man who put the bombs in the reserve force trucks. They have spies everywhere."
"We'll take the prisoners back to Sparta City and wring them out, and we'll send technicians to screen the others here," Lysander said. "But be careful. We don't want to force anyone to join the conspiracy. In fact—General Barton, you're authorized to issue a general amnesty for anyone not directly involved in atrocities."
"But—"
"He's right, Mrs. Olafson," Barton said. "Of course the amnesty won't apply to those we caught in the act."
"No, they'll go back to the capital. The important thing is to win, win and rebuild. End this war once and for all, and leave it behind us. We can do that."
"How?" Captain Caldon asked.
"We have to deprive them of their bases. We need surveillance satellites. We must halt their off-planet supplies. None of that can be done here, and most of it I'll have to do myself. I'll have to go back to the capital. It's time to win this war, but I can't leave this Helot field army intact. It has to be made ineffective, and for that I need your help. All of you, doing the best work you can. Will you help me?"
The old captain studied the prince's look, looked to his comrades, and turned back to Lysander. "As you command."