Junta Politics - The Spartan Succession

By Alinestra Covelia



All told, it could have been far worse. At first there was Menzies, Aldercott, Chen, Hommel, and Fernan. As it turned out, Major Chen was on bordermarch duty on the morning of 10-10-10, with two columns of rovers to his command. His original plan for the day had been to patrol until relieved by Fernan, but the emergency transmission changed all that.

Major Sosimo Fernan reached the rendezvous point to meet with Chen in private, discussing the latter's vital message: the Colonel was in mortal danger. After a hurried consultation, Fernan took his double column of rovers and legions back towards Spartan territory. For his part, Chen was to proceed at full speed to the Neutral Zone and make a thorough trawl, then return to the Spartan border, to guard against any enemy incursion.

It would take the force days to get to the Neutral Zone, and Chen Tse-Kuo had been an exemplary captain. Hardly surprising, either - he'd fought on the Taiwanese side during the Greater China Incidents back on Earth, and he'd put up a damn good fight against a crushingly superior force. Thinking ahead to the succession struggles, Fernan thought it would serve the Federation well for Chen to spend the next few days far far away.

And then there were four.

Fernan raced towards Spartan Citadel, where Major Pietr Hommel held jurisdiction. Hommel had the best-trained forces in the entire federation, and slightly more in number than any other commander, owing to his location near the frontier. He also had a strong sense of loyalty to the Spartan cause, though Fernan had heard him quietly remonstrate with the Colonel once or twice after Scrum meetings. A younger man, Hommel seemed to have wisdom beyond his years, quite devoid of any of the fiery impetuousness usually observed in military youth.

"We need to ensure a smooth transition," Fernan said. "Santiago is going to be out of commission for a while as she recovers." That last part was not a complete truth. Fernan knew nothing of the Colonel's condition, but he did know Hommel valued an individualist touch, and his loyalties were fairly clear - as long as the chain of command was, too.

"How is the Colonel?" Hommel asked. There was the trace of stress in his voice.

"We're still trying to find out," Fernan said. "Major Chen is taking his task force at top speed to the Neutral Zone to determine the situation. He'll come back to the border to stand guard afterwards - our goal is to keep things as orderly as possible."

Hommel pondered this. Chen was one of those types whom you kept out of combat for as long as possible until absolutely necessary. Once he got started, it was hard to rein in the momentum. "Chen said that to you?" he asked, faintly incredulous.

Fernan allowed himself a wry grimace that could have been a smile. "We talked at the border," he said. It was technically true, at least. "When he gets back, we need to be well on our way to a peaceful caretaker regime."

Hommel nodded. "I'm in. What's our first move?"

"Who's your captain of the mobile forces this cycle? Ebert?"

"Ebert, that's right."

Fernan stroked his chin. Ebert was something of a hot head, but the men looked up to him. It would do.

"I'd like to borrow Ebert and as many columns of your rovers as you can spare. They'll stay under his command, but we need to demonstrate unity through a display of strength," he said. "If we get enough men to our banners, we can shut this thing closed without a shot. If we're lucky."

"Fair enough, Sosimo," Hommel said. "Give me fifteen minutes to brief him, and he's yours. Standard report protocols, I assume?"

"Best make it double-encrypted. These are dangerous times. And keep a lid on it. Who knows what the others will do if they find out prematurely. Or not do."

And then there were three.

* ~ * ~ *

Menzies was a spook. From the start, he stood out, with his shoulder-length unruly mop of hair and his scraggly beard. Fernan suspected the beard was a foil to distract from the man's evident lack of age. Hommel might have seemed just on the young side of the Major's rank, but Menzies... He'd seen raw recruits older than this one.

Fernan shivered. They said the man had unusual powers. He apparently fritzed out a bank of computers walking past them at Sparta Command and gotten himself thrown into the clink briefly. Then those damn worms came, and the spook took off with a group of his oddball cronies. They'd been this close to a court-martial when they came back from the wild with Planetpearls and docile larvae.

It had been a metric hour since Chen brought the news by mouth. Chen had then turned right around and headed back towards Neutral Zone. Hommel was the only other person who knew. Unless, of course, Menzies' freak talents lent themselves to clairvoyance too.

Fernan had an aide trawling the internal COMINT transmissions for any news of Colonel Santiago's fate, but so far Chen's discretion had paid off. Nothing on the airwaves, and nothing in the conversations either.

Hommel and his men took up at a vacant resupply depot, and Fernan hailed Menzies. The base at Blast Rifle Crag welcomed him in.

"We need to talk in private," Fernan said, eventually, to Menzies. Once they were cloistered, he came right to the point. "Your research is the largest non-military budget item in the entire Federation treasury rolls."

"Is this to be an economics test?" Menzies asked sardonically.

Fernan ignored the interjection. "In the case of a factionwide emergency, if there should be a shortfall of energy and resources, your research would be the first to get the axe," he said bluntly.

Menzies was regarding him warily now. They said those eyes could stop your heart. Or maybe crush your trachea. Fernan fingered his badge.

"We have reason to believe there was a terrorist incident at the Meet," he said blandly. "The Colonel may be dead, or she may be coming back to resume control of the faction. But either way, there will be war. And somebody is going to pay. My job today is to make sure the war isn't a civil one."

Menzies stood up. "You have your guns and rovers, Major Fernan, but I have something far greater. The power of the mindworms," he said. Fernan fought the urge to roll his eyes. "With just a thought, my men can husk your columns."

"...and Hommel's too? And Chen?" Fernan countered. "Hommel's forces are just beyond the Sunrise Ridge. Chen returned from the Neutral Zone to my jurisdiction this morning." That, too, was only technically true. "Tell me if your mindgame spooks can handle those odds. And what would you have achieved anyway? Another slight reprieve for your cultivation tanks, before you run out of credits to keep the power on. And then at one stride comes the dark."

Fernan leaned forward. "I remember when you were just prisoner J-R-0705 in Sparta Command, Menzies," he said. "Nobody could ever prove you were guilty of anything. And for the record, I don't think you were. But we're getting very close to a crisis situation here, and it's decision time. You're either going to observe a smooth transition of power, or you're in the way. And bear in mind that your clean record of innocent verdicts might very well depend on your choice in the next few minutes."

Fernan stood up. "And just so you know, Hommel's man Ebert is receiving my vital signs every minute, as a security measure. If anything happens to me, you'll be back in your cell before sunrise tomorrow. If you do choose to go that route, I hope for your sake you like violent-crime drones for company."

He walked out. The sword was hung, now. Time would tell if Menzies heeded it.

And then there were two.

* ~ * ~ *

Aldercott had dominion over Sparta Command in the absence of the Colonel, and he had access to Santiago's ear most other times. Fernan recalled the frank, unstinting discussions he himself had shared with the Colonel - not exactly collegial, but a telling insight to her thoughts and priorities for the Federation. Aldercott, on the other hand, had always struck Fernan as a mere sounding-board: something you speak through to hear the sound of your own voice, rather than somebody whose input you sought.

Unfortunately, Aldercott also had access to the Command Center and training grounds. That meant he had the largest number of men of fighting age in absolute terms, though a good number of them were green recruits and non-commissioned officers. Unlike Fernan's own forces, most of Aldercott's men had never fired a rifle in earnest hostility against another human being.

All the same, Fernan didn't want to put that to the test if he could help it. He left his rover columns as close to the citadel as he could without triggering the sensors, and proceeded in a civilian transport to the command center. There, Aldercott's aide, Colvin, came to meet them.

"You know Ebert, I trust - captain of Major Hommel," Hernan said. "We must speak with Major Aldercott urgently, in private."

Colvin refused to leave, and Aldercott, spotless in his ceremonial uniform, did not ask him to.

"This is an unexpected visit," he said with a jauntiness that betrayed his age. He was fit, too - his cropped grey hair a pleasant sight against his sleek jawline. Fernan had to give him that: the man knew how to make power look good.

"The Colonel may be dead," Fernan said without preamble. "I spoke with Chen and Hommel and Menzies, and we are agreed that a smooth and orderly transition of power is called for. I do not know the details of the Colonel's health, but I do know we are liable to enter a state of war against one or more neighboring factions, and the Federation must unite under one leader to preserve the chain of command. I am here to accept your oath of loyalty."

Aldercott regarded Fernan narrowly. "Why should I swear it? I have the largest force under my command, and you have what? A skirmishing border party?"

"Two columns of rovers," Fernan corrected him. "Currently approaching your base from the southern and southwest passes. That is in addition to twelve infantry legions and two artillery support battalions. Ebert here is the representative of Major Hommel, who commands two columns of rovers and a further five infantry legions. Your current troop strength is roughly equivalent, though I notice you have no artillery detail this cycle, and half of your eighteen infantry legions are still earmarked as 'green'. As it currently stands, logistical calculations suggest your defenses will hold out no longer than two days. And you can rest assured that if the Colonel returns and learns that your opposition led to such loss of life, she will at the very least order a court-martial."

Fernan remained standing, watching the older man as the facts solidified.

"Before you commit to any regrettable actions," he continued, "you may wish to reflect on the fact that Chen's legions and columns will be crossing back into Spartan territories under my command, with two more columns of rovers and at least six legions deployable. As I recall, your Command Centers may be able to rush-train a militia of roughly comparable numbers. But will they be ready to do battle against Chen's force, fresh from the battlefield?"

Aldercott's lips were a thin compressed line as he made his way to his desk.

"You're bluffing," he said. "Chen could be gone for weeks."

Fernan sighed. "And you would be history after two days," he said. "And don't bother with the pistol either. We're both wired to vital monitors. It's a good step to take if you are tired of your post."

Aldercott whirled around. His hand was empty. "It has been ten years," he snarled, his face mottled. "Where were you in the Unity Rebellion? How many of Yang's goons did you bag, grasshopper? And here I am, medals on my chest but breastfeeding rookies in the training halls."

Ebert had risen, but Fernan laid a hand on his shoulder and propelled him back into his chair.

"Major Aldercott, with your aide Colvin as a witness, I would like to advise you that you are the sole remaining obstacle to a transition government. I understand there may be elements of compensation still to discuss, but we need unity at this time. Will you swear your oath of loyalty to me as commander in chief?"

The older man had calmed somewhat. Hands straight down by his sides. Eyes glaring murder at Fernan. The tense snorts of his breathing the only response.

"Very well," Fernan said. "I hereby call upon Colvin to place you under house arrest and to confine you to your quarters for the next two days pending reassessment. Colvin?"

The aide stepped forward uncertainly.

"Yessir?"

Fernan nodded. "You've heard what has gone between us today. Do you have any difficulty understanding and obeying this order?"

"Nosir."

"Very good. Ebert, over to you."

And then there was one.

* ~ * ~ *

Ebert took charge of the commlinks and authorized entry to the waiting forces outside the city. He hailed Hommel and left reports of their success at Sparta Command, along with suggested protocols for dealing with Chen upon the latter's return. Early reports from Blast Rifle Crag, however, suggested that Menzies was expelling the military guard there.

For the first time, Fernan smiled.

"He has made his choice. Prepare a cell for him here."

"We're not entirely sure where he is," Ebert warned.

"Perhaps. But we know where he will be. He will be hauled before us and made to kneel at our feet," Fernan said. "We now have free rein to do what we do best, Ebert - establish peace through superior force."

"Like the good Colonel would have intended?" Ebert asked.

"Just so." 