Rich Man's War by Elliott Kay Page B

the right people not gettin’ killed. You sure that went all the way down the chain to the grunts and the privates?”
    “You have reason to believe it hasn’t?” Basara folded his arms across his chest.
    “Your men are talkin’ about cutting people up and looting,” explained Harris. “Some of these guys carry trophies, the kind that grew on another human being. They need to throw that shit away. It brings a whole lot more trouble than it’s worth.”
    Basara’s eyes flared. “I shall make these decisions, not you, Mr. Harris. These are fighting men. I am surprised that someone of your experience cannot recognize this. Do you come to lecture me on how to lead men? Do you think I do not understand why we undertake this errand instead of pursuing more vital strategic objectives? If you are not pleased with the forces at hand, I will gladly cancel this mission and fold these forces back into Prince Murtada’s army of liberation while you and your ‘advisors’ sit here in—”
    “Major, if you’ll allow me,” Abnett broke in, gesturing for Harris to follow him away. He didn’t know whether Harris would actually take the hint, but felt a bit of a relief as the old soldier turned from Basara and started walking with him. “You think now’s the time for this?” hissed Abnett.
    “No, the time for it was when we first got here and found out who we’d be workin’ with,” grunted Harris, “and the guy for the job is you . But I didn’t see you takin’ it up with anybody, so I figured I’d better give it a shot.”
    Hashemite fighters moved all around them as they walked, carrying weapons and ammo. Everyone slowly picked up their pace as a voice over the public address system began to relay announcements in Arabic.
    “Harris, I don’t get this,” said Abnett, shaking his head. “You know what we’re about to do. Hell, you came up with half the planning. But you’re lodging moral objections on the conduct of our host forces? Now? This isn’t a peacekeeping mission, Harris, it’s the exact opposite.”
    “Behavior like this is a bad sign, Abnett. You let soldiers run around picking up random loot and trophies, they start worrying more about their collections than they do about securing a perimeter or watchin’ out for their buddies. The major back there has the same problem. It’s 2276 and he’s carrying around a sword , for fuck’s sake. My problem isn’t about morality, it’s about professionalism.
    “And another thing: conduct like this doesn’t make it any easier to work with the locals. You can scare a civilian out of your way, but it’s a long way from there to getting any active support. This ain’t a peacekeeping op yet, but it’s gonna be. We’re gonna have to come in here with a real army and clean up the mess this jackass prince and his cousin the major make on their way to the top.”
    “All above our pay grade, Harris,” said Abnett. His voice dropped and he leaned in as he jerked his thumb back toward Basara’s tank. “Besides, the fact that these guys are a bunch of savages just makes our cover story more plausible. We’re not gonna change anything now. Let’s just do our job and get out.”
    Harris headed back to the NorthStar team along with Abnett, falling a step behind. “We’re gonna be back here in six months fighting an insurgency,” he grumbled. “Not that you’ll be on board for it.”

Chapter Three
    All Necessary Measures
     
    “The Kingdom of Hashem suffers from one of the classic pitfalls of monarchy: three capable heirs, two of whom have no lack of ambition. Though all seven systems of the kingdom remain nominally under the king’s control, no one expects the peace to last. Earlier flare-ups between the king’s sons in the wake of the pirate raid on Qal’at Khalil seem to have been the prelude to greater conflicts. Peace overtures on the part of the King, the Union Assembly, the Lai Wa Corporation and Prince Khalil himself have all failed to