The Prince by Jerry Pournelle and S.M. Stirling

“It’s over,” Falkenberg said gently. “For all of us. The regiment will be leaving as soon as you’re properly in command. You shouldn’t have any trouble with your power plants. Your technicians will trust you now that Bradford’s gone. And without their leaders, the city people won’t resist.

“You can ship as many as you have to out to the interior. Disperse them among the loyalists where they won’t do you any harm. That amnesty of yours—it’s only a suggestion, but I’d renew it.”

Hamner turned dazed eyes toward Falkenberg. “Yes. There’s been too much slaughter today. Who are you, Falkenberg?”

“A mercenary soldier, Mr. President. Nothing more.”

“But—then who are you working for?”

“That’s the question nobody asked before. Grand Admiral Lermontov.”

“Lermontov? But you were drummed out of the CoDominium! You mean that you were hired—by the admiral? As a mercenary?”

“More or less.” Falkenberg nodded coldly. “The Fleet’s a little sick of being used to mess up people’s lives without having a chance to—to leave things in working order.”

“And now you’re leaving?”

“Yes. We couldn’t stay here, George. Nobody is going to forget today. You couldn’t keep us on and build a government that works. I’ll take First and Second Battalions, and what’s left of the Fourth. There’s more work for us.”

“And the others?”

“Third will stay on to help you,” Falkenberg said. “We put all the married locals, the solid people, in Third, and sent it off to the power plants. They weren’t involved in the fighting.” He looked across the Stadium, then back to Hamner. “Blame it all on us, George. You weren’t in command. You can say Bradford ordered this slaughter and killed himself in remorse. People will want to believe that. They’ll want to think somebody was punished for—for this.” He waved toward the field below. A child was sobbing out there somewhere.

“It had to be done,” Falkenberg insisted. “Didn’t it? There was no way out, nothing you could do to keep civilization. . . . Dr. Whitlock estimated a third of the population would die when things collapsed. Fleet Intelligence put it higher than that. Now you have a chance.”

Falkenberg was speaking rapidly, and George wondered whom he was trying to convince.

“Move them out,” Falkenberg said. “Move them out while they’re still dazed. You won’t need much help for that. They won’t resist now. And we got the railroads running for you. Use the railroads and ship people out to the farms. It’ll be rough with no preparation, but it’s a long time until winter—”

“I know what to do,” Hamner interrupted. He leaned against the column, and seemed to gather new strength from the thought. Yes. I do know what to do. Now. “I’ve known all along what had to be done. Now we can get to it. We won’t thank you for it, but—you’ve saved a whole world, John.”

Falkenberg looked at him grimly, then pointed to the bodies below. “Damn you, don’t say that!” he shouted. His voice was almost shrill. “I haven’t saved anything. All a soldier can do is buy time. I haven’t saved Hadley. You have to do that. God help you if you don’t.”

XII

Crofton’s Encyclopedia of Contemporary History

and Social Issues (2nd Edition)

MERCENARY FORCES

Perhaps the most disturbing development arising from CoDominium withdrawal from most distant colony worlds (see Independence Movements) has been the rapid growth of purely mercenary military units. The trend was predictable and perhaps inevitable, although the extent has exceeded expectations.

Many of the former colony worlds do not have planetary governments. Consequently, these new nations do not possess sufficient population or industrial resources to maintain large and effective national military forces. The disbanding of numerous CoDominium Marine units left a surplus of trained soldiers without employment, and it was inevitable that some of them would band together into mercenary units.

The colony governments are thus faced with a cruel and impossible dilemma. Faced with mercenary troops specializing in violence, they have had little choice but to reply in kind. A few colonies have broken this cycle by creating their own national armies, but have then been unable to pay for them.

Thus, in addition to the purely private mercenary organizations such as Falkenberg’s Mercenary Legion, there are now national forces hired out to reduce expenses to their parent governments. A few former colonies have found this practice so lucrative that the export of mercenaries has become their principal source of income, and the recruiting and training of soldiers their major industry.

The CoDominium Grand Senate has attempted to maintain its presence in the former colonial areas through promulgation of the so-called Laws of War (q. v.), which purport to regulate the weapons and tactics mercenary units may employ. Enforcement of these regulations is sporadic. When the Senate orders Fleet intervention to enforce the Laws of War the suspicion inevitably arises that other CoDominium interests are at stake, or that one or more Senators have undisclosed reasons for their interest.

Mercenary units generally draw their recruits from the same sources as the CoDominium Marines, and training stresses loyalty to comrades and commanders rather than to any government. The extent to which mercenary commanders have successfully separated their troops from all normal social intercourse is both surprising and alarming.

The best-known mercenary forces are described in separate articles. See: Covenant; Friedland; Xanadu; Falkenberg’s Mercenary Legion; Nouveau Legion Etrangere; Katanga Gendarmerie; Moolman’s Commandos . . .

FALKENBERG’S MERCENARY LEGION

Purely private military organization formed from the former Forty-second CoDominium Line Marines under Colonel John Christian Falkenberg III. Falkenberg was cashiered from the CoDominium Fleet under questionable circumstances, and his regiment disbanded shortly thereafter. A large proportion of former Forty-second officers and men chose to remain with Falkenberg.

Falkenberg’s Legion appears to have been first employed by the government of the then newly independent former colony of Hadley (q.v.) for suppression of civil disturbances. There have been numerous complaints that excessive violence was used by both sides in the unsuccessful rebellion following CoDominium withdrawal, but the government of Hadley has expressed satisfaction with Falkenberg’s efforts there.

Following its employment on Hadley, Falkenberg’s Legion took part in numerous small wars of defense and conquest on at least five planets, and in the process gained a reputation as one of the best-trained and most effective small military units in existence.

It was then engaged by the CoDominium Governor on the CD prison planet of Tanith.

This latter employment caused great controversy in the Grand Senate, as Tanith remains under CD control. However, Grand Admiral Lermontov pointed out that his budget did not permit his stationing regular Marine forces on Tanith owing to other commitments mandated by the Grand Senate; after lengthy debate the employment was approved as an alternative to raising a new regiment of CD Marines.

* * *

Tanith’s bright image had replaced Earth’s on Grand Admiral Lermontov’s view screen. The planet might have been Earth: it had bright clouds obscuring the outlines of land and sea, and they swirled in typical cyclonic patterns.

A closer look showed differences. The sun was yellow: Tanith’s star was not as hot as Sol, but Tanith was closer to it. There were fewer mountains, and more swamplands steaming in the yellow-orange glare.

Despite its miserable climate, Tanith was an important world. It was first and foremost a convenient dumping ground for Earth’s disinherited. There was no better way to deal with criminals than to send them off to hard—and useful—labor on another planet. Tanith received them all: the rebels, the criminals, the malcontents, victims of administrative hatred; all the refuse of a civilization that could no longer afford misfits.

Tanith was also the main source of borloi, which the World Pharmaceutical Society called “the perfect intoxicating drug.” Given large supplies of borloi the lid could be kept on the Citizens in their Welfare Islands. The happiness the drug induced was artificial, but it was none the less real.

“And so I am trading in drugs,” Lermontov told his visitor. “It is hardly what I expected when I became Grand Admiral.”

“I’m sorry, Sergei.” Grand Senator Martin Grant had aged; in ten years he had come to look forty years older. “The fact is, though, you’re better off with Fleet ownership of some of the borloi plantations than you are relying on what I can get for you out of the Senate.”

Lermontov nodded in disgust. “It must end, Martin. Somehow, somewhere, it must end. I cannot keep a fighting service together on the proceeds of drug sales—drugs grown by slaves! Soldiers do not make good slavemasters.”

Grant merely shrugged.

“Yes, it is easy to think, is it not?” The admiral shook his head in disgust. “But there are vices natural to the soldier and the sailor. We have those, in plenty, but they are not vices that corrupt his ability as a fighting man. Slaving is a vice that corrupts everything it touches.”

“If you feel that way, what can I say?” Martin Grant asked. “I can’t give you an alternative.”