Free Helfort's War Book 4: The Battle for Commitment Planet by Graham Sharp Paul

NRA and the Nationalists to take them in, not to mention survive long enough to see them topple the Hammer government. Only then would they all be able to go home.
    Bienefelt coughed softly. Michael started. He had clean forgotten about her. “Shit, sorry, Matti.”
    “No problem, sir.”
    “Just wanted to … you know …”
    “Check that what you’re doing is the right thing?”
    Michael smiled, a rueful half smile of uncertainty tinged with fear. “Am I that obvious?”
    “Know you well enough by now, sir.”
    “You do. Well?”
    “Legally, no, it’s the wrong thing. Morally? It’s arguable, but on balance I think we’re on the side of the angels.”
    “That’s where I get to, Matti. Like most things in life, I guess, if it all works out the way we hope it will, it will have been the right thing. If it doesn’t …”
    “Well, then, we’ll just have to make sure it does work out, won’t we?”
    “We will. One other thing, though. You know now how I feel about the way this war is managed. How are the troops taking things?”
    Bienefelt sat back in her chair. “You really want to know, sir?”
    “Yes, Matti. I really want to know.”
    “Well, I shouldn’t say this ’cause it’s all scuttlebutt, but things are not good out there in the fleet. The kicking we received atComdur started the rot. I know the Hammers pulled that one out of the hat, I know nobody had any idea they’d found a way to weaponize antimatter, I know there was nothing that anyone in Fleet could have done to avoid the disaster. Even so, being beaten so badly is hard for your average spacer to take, and it does nothing to inspire confidence in the brass. Whether that’s right or wrong doesn’t matter. It’s a fact. Then the Salvation operation followed. I know we won that one, but at what cost? Eleven ships sacrificed by Fleet, including your Anna’s
Damishqui
, because Fleet was too gutless to stand up to the politicians. Eleven ships! All those spacers, all those marines, and for what? For what?”
    Bienefelt sighed and rubbed her face with hands the size of hams.
    “For nothing,” she continued, “all for nothing. We were always going to kick the Hammers’ asses. So no wonder spacers began to worry where the hell this war was going to end up. After that came Devastation Reef. I know we won that one big time, but even the dumbest spacer was able to work out that was only because the dreadnoughts saved Fleet’s backside … no, not the dreadnoughts, you, sir. You saved Fleet,” Bienefelt said fiercely. “And the troops know it. The fact that most Fleet officers feel you did it the wrong way has pissed them off big time. Every spacer I speak to thinks the decision to stop the dreadnought project is madness, total madness. So what do they have to look forward to now? Five more years of war, at least. Jeez, that’s if they’re lucky. Plenty of spacers think this war will never end. Never! Even if it is only five more years, like Chief Fodor said, five years for what? We can’t win this war until every ship carries antimatter weapons, which won’t happen inside ten years no matter how much money we throw at it, and why are we surprised? Took the Hammers the best part of fifty years to work out how to make enough of the damn stuff to be useful. That means the Hammers can build a new antimatter plant to replace the one we destroyed at Devastation Reef, then do another Comdur on us.” Bienefelt paused for a moment. “Though there’s another possibility,” she continued.
    “Which is?”
    “That the war will end sooner than we think.”
    “How?” Michael said with a puzzled frown.
    “When the Hammers beat us. Fleet says five years. Who says that’s right? The Hammers must know that the sooner they restore their antimatter capability, the sooner they can destroy our fleet. Then it’s game over. I wouldn’t bet my life on us having that long.”
    “Shit! There’s a cheery thought,” Michael