Gypsy moved to the front of the room as I drew a chair back against the rear wall. “We’re all here now. I apologize for calling this meeting so hastily, but our latest member arrived early and I wanted to get things started. Our situation here is relatively simple. We are here to affect a change in the leadership of this world. Revolution, reformation, conquest, call it what you will; we are the ones tasked with accomplishing it.”
He smiled confidently as murmurs ran through the group. “You will be the commanders of our lances, companies and battalions. Major Catford will command our first battalion and Mr. Donelly will command the second.”
This promotion surprised everyone save Gypsy and Elle. I was lucky that by being in the back of the room, I had a second to cover my shock before everyone else turned to look at me. I’d been scanned hard when I walked into the Egg, but the looks I was getting would have hard-boiled me by comparison.
The two looking the hardest at me were over on the right side of the room. One was Catford, of whom I’d heard. Back when Stone resigned and Damien Redburn had been appointed Exarch in his place, Catford had resigned his commission in a Republic Guards unit. On his native Epsilon Eridani he’d tried to raise a mercenary unit he called the Eridani Warhorses, recalling the glory days of the fabled Eridani Light Horse regiment. His efforts were frustrated when Prefect Sandoval refused to sign a company charter for him.
Since then I wasn’t certain what the small, slender man had been doing. Had he waited two years he might have been able to follow in Tormark’s footsteps and have a unit naturally rise around him. Since he was present on Basalt, I had to assume he’d fallen on hard times, or had been working as a consultant with those who anticipated the present times arriving in one form or another.
The other person stood a head taller than him and had her blond hair of a length that covered her shoulders and her neck. She’d probably have tucked it back on the left side to see me better, but I knew her ear had been reduced to a melted nubbin and the twisted mass of scars on her cheek and neck were enough to make even the most battle-hardened vet blanch. A piece of machinery replaced her left eye, and the stainless-steel socket in which it had been set covered her from temple to forehead, along her nose and molded to the top of her cheekbone.
Isabel Siwek didn’t know me, but I knew her. She’d commanded a small militia unit on Acamar, in Prefecture V. She took her people out and put down a small protest by farmers, and put it down hard. She then burned four farms and a quarter of a small town, all the while claiming the farmers had done it to frame her. Janella had been sent in to oversee an investigation and Siwek refused to come in. Janella had been forced to bring her in and the resulting battle had left Siwek scarred and in a Republic prison.
How and why she was out, I didn’t know. That had all happened four years ago. I’d known of Janella then, but wasn’t dating her. When we started seeing each other, I did some background research, which is why I knew of Siwek.
Her reaction to the announcement suggested to me that she’d expected to command the second battalion. Moreover, her being seated near Catford had me thinking the two of them had already been talking together about how to run things. I could applaud their taking initiative, but given his ambition and her flexibility on ethical grounds, I was thinking having them together would not be the way to keep collateral damage to a minimum.
Gypsy waited for a moment until the tension in the room was just shy of boiling over, then clapped his hands. “Mr. Donelly was instrumental to the successful conclusion of a recent operation, and showed great insight into these things. I am very pleased to have him with us, and I know he will be able to handle his responsibilities without question.”
About a third of the people were willing to take Gypsy at his word, another third were waiting for me to prove it, and the rest of them wouldn’t have deigned to follow me if I was Morgan Kell leading them in a raid on a nursery school. It could have been worse, as far as the numbers went, but was probably as bad as it could get otherwise. Those who resented my intrusion clearly were wondering who I was. Until they knew, and until Catford and Siwek could be put in their place, I was going to have trouble.
But, as every good wolfhound knows, you just start taking the pack apart one wolf at a time.
Our leader smiled. “Our goal is to destabilize the government so as to more easily effect a change. My associate and I have done the basic research on Basalt and have begun to outline a number of operations that will bring us… Yes, Major Catford?”
Catford rose and pulled the crimson beret from his head. “If you will permit me, Gypsy, I’ve been checking some things out myself, and I think there’s some vulnerabilities here that we can exploit using some proven military strategies. With Captain Siwek and a few other company commanders, I have undertaken the development of operations protocols and plans that, when employed, will destroy the enemy’s ability to strike at us. Once we have done that, effecting a regime change will be a simple matter of seeing to it that the current leadership relinquishes control, voluntarily or involuntarily.
“Our research has pointed out the triad keeping the current regime in power. The Public Safety Department is a paramilitary group that will be powerless to stop us. They are underequipped and trained for crowd control more than outright combat. The Basalt Militia has a few ’Mechs, and a fair selection of military vehicles, but all are outdated and underpowered. Moreover, their pilots are green and will be no real threat in combat.
“By far our greatest threat will be the group of mercenaries being gathered by our opposition. We have ascertained the location of their headquarters and are willing to initiate investigations to further track opposition forces. With a series of lightning strikes, we can eliminate this force. We anticipate that collateral civilian damage will be kept to acceptable levels and restricted to marginal underclass populations, so the potential elite backlash will be minimalized.”
People listened intently, with heads nodding in agreement. Even Gypsy seemed to be open to this description, but not yet fully accepting of it. If this was the overture, I didn’t want to be hearing the rest of the symphony. Catford was composing a bloody lament for Basalt, and goal one for my mission was to close that concert before it ever opened.
While I had hoped this would come later rather than sooner, circumstances were really directing me to act immediately. I let my chair rock forward and I stood. “If I’m not mistaken, Major, you’re suggesting a direct military assault on a place like the Egg, to destroy the enemy’s cadre of warriors?”
“That eventuality was covered in our ancillary operations to ensure complete neutralization of the enemy opfor.”
“Ancillary?” I blinked. “You saw that as an afterthought? And your primary was, what, issuing a challenge to the enemy to go toe-to-toe in the northern flood plain?”
The sarcasm in my voice never even registered on him. “If you knew anything about ’Mech warfare, Mr. Donelly, or of Basalt, you’d know that the flood plain is hardly the optimal venue for combat.”
“What I know about, Major Catford, is a lot more than just ’Mech warfare.” I nodded toward Gypsy. “We’re not here to kill ’Mechs and machines. We’re here to kill a government, and I’ve had time and reason to think on that of late.”
Gypsy smiled. “Would you care to share your insights with us, Sam?”
I thought for a moment, then nodded. “Sure. It’s the only way to incite a reasonably stable and satisfied populace into wanting their government replaced. It will work. I call it Low-Intensity Terrorism. We do it right, and we might never need a ’Mech leaving a hangar.”