"Captain, will it be possible to bring both my primary weapons on assignment?" Bjørn asked.

"I don't see why not, especially not when you get your own ship. Just be aware that you have to carry your own gear into battle. I will not have a fully operational soldier functioning as a personal servant. I have put too many resources into each of you to let you go to waste like that." Eirik replied firmly.

"Of course Captain," Bjørn continued, "Don't worry about me carrying my own gear. I can manage." He grinned as he hefted the grenade launcher in his left hand, still holding the m134 with his right hand. Eirik had a sneaking suspicion that Bjørn was strong enough to fire the minigun one-handed, without the need for custom exo-suit armor.

"Do you have any suggestions for taking the enemy ships?" Eirik asked, wondering how far this possible future commander's knowledge of warfare stretched.

"Afraid not, Captain. I barely have a plan for engaging a superior enemy on the ground, but at least I have a few ideas for the ground combat. For space combat, I'm drawing a blank. I could try talking with the other squad leaders... They might know more about that sort of stuff than I do." Bjørn was furrowing his brow as he spoke. If he had to be honest with himself, He was more of a thug than a soldier. Sure, he had been trained. But he still thought like a thug.

"This is why I did not want overall command of the commando group, Captain. I don't know why you chose me, I'm a street thug, not a leader." Bjørn voiced his concerns to Eirik.

Eirik eyed Bjørn for a moment before answering "I disagree, Bjørn. You can keep the misfits amongst misfits under control. That is a very valuable and very rare skill to possess. The rest of what a mercenary commander needs, you can be taught. What is most important is that you take control and always present a confident facade to your men. They will look to you for leadership and they will wish for you to tell them what to do. If you seem unsure when giving orders, that uncertainty will soak into the men you have under your command and make them sloppy. Sloppy soldiers get killed.

But you are on the right path. Admitting you do not have the answers and looking to find them amongst people that most likely have more experience on the matter, is a very good place to start from. You can look at me. My knowledge of the different areas of my ship is surface level at the best of times. But it is enough for my crew to communicate serious issues to me so that I might make a decision on the matter. You will fill out the exact same role. I suggest expanding your chain of command by splitting your 20-man groups in half with a unit lead in control of each half.

These unit leads will report back to their respective squad leader on behalf of the men and take orders to the men during combat. They will also take over command of the squad in case the squad leader becomes busy with his role as squad medic."

"That reminds me, Captain, why make the squad leaders the squad medics?" Bjørn asked.

"To place an incentive to keep squad leaders alive. That way, there is a reduced chance of getting a bullet in the back during an assignment on account of an ambitious squadmate." Eirik said lightly. When he saw Bjørn's shocked face, he sighed. "Come on, Bjørn, we work with some of the vilest scum the smuggler station attracts. The only reason there is any discipline is because of steady pay, a station commander that understands the need for soldiers to visit bars and whorehouses, the promise of large legal payday's in the future, the fact that I don't care what you do in your time off, and the fear of what I or my brother might do to them, should anyone get any funny ideas."

"What could the 2 of you do against an entire station of soldiers?? Not that I'm planning anything, but you cannot blame me for being curious, Captain." Bjørn had a hard time believing there was anything they could do if there was a revolt.

"Knowing my brother," Eirik answered with a very punchable smirk on his face, "This entire station has been rigged with explosives at this point, intended as a final *fuck you* to any invader lucky or strong enough to take this station from me."

Bjørn let the words sink in before speaking again. "You would willingly blow this entire station up, out of nothing more than spite?"

"Spite and tactics." Eirik had a strange glow in his eyes as he spoke. "During the course of a battle, there are countless ways to deny your enemy and inflict heavy casualties. It is nothing short of irony that the greatest of such moments is at the brink of victory.

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Any invading force attacking this station would have to deal with a small army, ceiling and wall turrets placed in strategic locations, blast doors that greatly slow progress and diverts initial assaults to take massive detours. Numerous chokepoints with overlapping fields of fire and not a shred of cover on the approach, inactive minefields that will be activated with the alarm. And that is not counting the regular people that will be caught in here and add to the defending force, both in numbers and ingenuity. It would take an extremely overwhelming amount of troops and supplies to take this station. But. It IS possible." Eirik was getting animated, pacing as he spoke and gesturing wildly with his hands.

"This is why explosives have been planted on every deck, in every room, on every piece of the superstructure this station is built around. The moment a determined enemy has taken full control of this station, those explosives will be detonated, taking most of the victors with it in the following explosion. We fight smart, Bjørn. We are almost always outnumbered and outgunned. So we hit fast, we hit hard, and we hit where it hurts the most. Then we withdraw, relocate, and repeat.

If we are to defend an area, we dig in deep and we latch on no matter what is thrown against us. Our fights are not contests. They are missions of obliteration. Fail to enter battle with that mindset and you will most likely lose the fight."

Bjørn looked Eirik over for a long moment. "Captain, just how many battles have you been in?"

Eirik just smiled for a moment. "Speak to your fellow squad leaders," He said, changing the subject. "We will arrive in the target system the day after tomorrow. I expect a meeting with all 5 of you tomorrow after dinner. I want battleplans and suggestions for when those plans fail."

"What makes you think any plan we come up with will fail?" Bjørn boasted.

"*No plan survives first contact with the enemy*. Helmuth van Moltke said that, and those words were wise indeed. If you care to put the hubris down for a bit, you might actually learn some of the things that you are going to need, Bjørn." Eirik scolded the big man, speaking to him like you would an unruly teenager.

Bjørn dropped his jaw and stared at Eirik, dumbfounded. "Nobody has dared talk to me like that since I was 8!" He finally said.

"But I doubt you are going to attack the man that signs your paycheck." Eirik laughed as he walked away.

"You know, you kind of asked for that one, big man" Signe said from the sideline, causing Bjørn to almost snap his neck trying to see who dared point out the obvious. When he saw it was Signe, he just grumbled and started fumbling with the kevlar suit that miraculously fit him.

_____________________________

The next evening, Eirik sat down in the conference room with the 5 squad leaders and leaned back in his chair. "Well?" He opened the conversation.

Bjørn took the word, pulling a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket, and looked it over as he spoke, "First, we have a few questions, Captain. Are there boarding torpedoes on board the ship?" Eirik nodded and Bjørn continued, "Good, then it's almost given how we intend to deal with enemy ships. As for the ground combat, we were in contact with the colony a few hours ago. They are being kept within their colony and the surrounding lands where they work. Any attempt to leave is met with dozens of armed guards herding them back. Whatever they manage to harvest or make is seized by the pirates once a week. We are in luck, as they recently picked up the tribute, giving us 4 days from arrival to prepare for them to come back.

The pirates usually only arrive with 25-ish guards to pick up tribute, not enough to win against a determined defense by the colonists. We plan to have the colonists reject paying tribute and attacking the pirates under the guise of having had enough. When the pirates return in force, we will spring an ambush placed in and around the colony in question. At the same time the ambush is triggered, a single squad from the commando group will attack the pirates' base of operations, which we will hopefully have found at that time.

This should knock out the communication with their ships in orbit and we can pick them off one by one. As long as they think their base is still operational, they will return, even if they flee initially."

Eirik nodded again, "Good. How do you plan on getting boots on the ground?"

"Stealth approach on the night side, travel under the radar, and land directly in the colony for the short hour we will need to unload the equipment we plan to use. Exit the same way we entered and hide the ship in the nearby asteroid cloud until we have control of the ground situation. " Bjørn read from the paper.

"And if things go wrong?" Eirik drilled him.

"Then we were hoping we could rely on you and your troopers as an emergency backup." Bjørn didn't hesitate with his answers, which pleased Eirik. Seems like the big brute was actually listening.

"Granted. But only in a true emergency. We will not be a crutch to lean on. But if things turn's to shit, I want you to call for backup." Eirik insisted.

"Will do Captain. Is there anything else?" Bjørn asked.

"Only this. Anyone that surrenders will be spared and sent to the Terran Government once we return to the station. There will be no plundering or looting during the assignments. Everything will be divided equally after the assignment has been completed. And don't get killed."