She sighed. “As many as I can gather in the system, according to the FDP.”
At the reminder of the pact that limited his troop strength, Hella chuckled with a caustic edge. “Ah yes, can’t forget the FDP.”
“I can’t bring in a full battle group due to the restrictions, and there are no reinforcements nearby. We’re spread pretty thin in this sector. I have concerns about that, Aaron, particularly with reports of increased Union presence on the border of the system.”
She needn’t have voiced her worries; he could read it in her eyes, the color of an emerald sea darkening before an approaching storm. “I understand your concern. We’ve been fighting with one arm for twenty years because of that treaty, and it’s not about to change, especially now. The president and council don’t want to alarm the Union by bringing in greater strength than we’ve already gathered. We’re already risking sanctions from the Planetary Commonwealth for our continued actions in the Silex System”
“I only hope we have strength enough to deter the Union from interfering directly in the system. How do things look on the ground right now?”
Hella had been on Verdant all day, meeting with some of Misawa’s officials as well as inspecting his one deployed division, the 42nd. “Our base of operations is secure, and the men are ready. As for the governor and his men… Well, I have my doubts.”
“Do you believe we have sufficient strength to defeat the insurgency?”
“I think we can pull it off. The council is confident our presence will be enough to deter the Union—hopefully they’ll be right for once. Without the support of the Union, the insurgency should begin to falter. I’ll be counting on your vigilance up here to keep us alerted of any increase in Union forces.”
“I’m watching, believe me. If they violate the pact, I’ll request reinforcements from Aldeb immediately. But it’s all up to the Union. That’s what bothers me most of all. They want Verdant as much as we do, and they seem to have the sympathy of the populace.”
“I have a meeting with the commander of the Verdant Guard in half an hour. We’ll see what he has to say about the loyalty of the people.”
“It’s not encouraging, according to Rear Admiral Turner.”
“Your intel officer?”
She nodded.
“I’m meeting with my staff at nineteen-hundred hours. I would like him present as well.”
“He’ll be there. I’ve had him gathering intel for several weeks. He’s already briefed the CO of 42nd Division.”
“Excellent,” he commented.
“What happened to your other two divisions?”
He informed her of the council’s decision to leave the 94th and 12th Divisions deployed in the Silex System.
“You’re kidding? Two more divisions on planet might violate the pact, but they could have given you one on surface and kept another in orbit as a reserve.”
“We can thank General Lonacker for that. Apparently mopping up Silex is more important at the moment.”
“That attitude alone tells me they don’t know what they’re stepping into.”
“I tried, Pamela.”
“I’m sure you did. Better you than me. I would become certifiably insane if I had to deal with the council.”
“It does take a certain type of crazy.”
“Yes, yours.” They laughed. “But you love it, I know you do. Always climbing.”
“Guilty. But I’ve never made claims to the contrary. You should keep climbing as well. I could use an admiral like you on the council when I become chairman.”
She shook her head. “That will never happen and you know it.” She glanced away for a moment, plainly troubled. “I’m tired, Aaron. Twenty-nine years of deployments and red tape… all those letters to grieving families wondering why their son or daughter died in some godforsaken system where we shouldn’t have been fighting. I’ve had enough.”
I can tell. “That’s a shame. But the highest levels of command aren’t for everyone.”
He’d meant it as a jab, hoping to start a fire under her ass. But she wouldn’t be baited. “No, they are not. I’m looking forward to retiring, probably in the next couple of years.”
“Well, you have something to retire to.”
“Don’t go there.”
Good idea. It still vexed him that he hadn’t been able to steal her from her husband. He changed the subject to something else burrowing under his skin. “I hear Kyle has been assigned to Sixth Fleet.”
Her mood improved. She had always liked Kyle; most people did. “He is. I’m honored to have him under my command.”
“Did you request he be assigned to your fleet?”
“I did not.”
Interesting… He wondered if Kyle’s posting was coincidence or something arranged higher up. By Deely maybe. Hella’s ambition had earned him countless enemies in high places.
“Would you like to see him, Aaron?”
“No,” he answered quickly, “I don’t wish to distract him from his duties. Treat him no differently than your other commanders.”
“I would never think of doing so. That’s the last thing he wants.”
Hella nodded. He respected his son tremendously, something he needn’t articulate to Pamela. But I’ll have to let him know someday. There would be time for that reckoning after the deployment; until then, all personnel needed to put their personal lives aside. “I’m glad to hear it, Pamela. Give him my regards when next you see him. When this is all over, we’ll get together for dinner like old times, celebrate his first command of a vessel.”
“I would enjoy that. And I know you’re proud of him in spite of everything.”
“He’s spent a lot of years proving me wrong. I’m just pleased they’ve amounted to something.” He noticed the time. “I had best get going; I have the meeting with General Rieve in fifteen minutes.”
“Good luck, Aaron. Keep me in the loop regarding the situation down there.”
“You know I will.” He stood.
“And not just the things you want me to know.” She stared him down.
He grinned. “We’ll see, Pamela. I’ll see you during 79th Division’s pre-deployment brief.”
Hella returned to his quarters and a meal of steak, eggs, and vegetables served by the thin, pasty yeoman assigned him aboard the Resolute. He ate at his desk while reading an intel report on General Rieve as he awaited the man.
Yeoman Sanders’ knock heralded the general’s arrival. “Pardon me, sir,” Sanders said, cautiously entering. “There is a General Rieve—”
“Send him in.”
Sanders gulped. “Sir, I wasn’t sure if you wished to finish—”
Hella locked eyes with the yeoman, who quickly flinched away. “I said send him in.”
“Yes, sir.”
Sanders lacked sense; as a third-class petty officer, he hadn’t been around long enough to gather much. MSgt Rocco would have just sent Rieve in, but he knew how Hella operated. He’s no servant, either. Though designated as an admin chief, pulled from infantry after losing his arm, Rocco presently attended to more important duties than serving dinner.
Hella took a dislike to Rieve the moment he entered the room. Though unfamiliar with the rank structure of the Verdant Guard, Hella knew that Rieve, about forty years old, was too young to be a general even in a small army. Meaningless medals covered the chest of his tan uniform clanked as he entered. His jodhpurs were neatly tucked into the tops of black patent leather jackboots that matched his shining pistol belt, the holster hanging empty, his weapon surrendered upon boarding the ship. He wore a black beret and a thin black mustache. A gold star, ludicrously large, adorned each of his shoulder boards. How can a man be so meticulous about his uniform and still look like shit in it?
“General Hella,” he said in a deep voice that belied his thin yet paunchy stature.
“Just a moment, please.” Hella continued to eat dinner and review Rieve�
�s record on the projected display next to his plate, the screen in a privacy setting only the viewer could see. He did not invite the general to be seated. If he’s assertive he’ll just sit down. Rieve was not; he stood there while Hella finished his dinner and reread the report.
Hella finally put his plate aside, dabbing a napkin at his chin, then looked up at Rieve as if the general had just arrived. “General, it’s a pleasure.” He did not stand but motioned to the chair before his desk. “Be seated.”
“Thank you.” A powerful voice, anyway. “The Verdant Guard is looking forward to working with your Marines.” He squinted when addressing Hella, who appeared in shadow, the light coming from directly behind him.
Are they indeed? “Outstanding. How long have you been in command?”
“Almost two years.”
“I see. And whose military did you serve in before joining the Verdant Guard?”
Rieve cocked his head, looked bewildered for a moment. “None. I’ve served in the Guard for my entire career, twenty-two years.”
“So dating back to Union rule, then?”
“Correct.”
“They trained you?”
“Yes. I attended the Primacy Military Academy on Muristow.”
Hella gave the barest of nods. “Do you have any contacts in the Union forces at present?”
“Are you questioning my loyalty, general?”
Wears his bearing better than that ridiculous uniform. “I said nothing regarding your loyalty. Shall I repeat the question?”
“Not necessary. There might still be a few Union men around that I knew. I couldn’t say, I haven’t talked to any of them in years. My loyalty is to Governor Misawa.”
“I should hope so. Tell me, do your officers and men share that loyalty?”
“As far as I know.”
“As far as you know…? So it’s possible elements in your forces are disloyal to the governor?”
“Not as far as I know.”
“So there could be, is what you’re saying?”
“I never said—”
“Enough. Dancing around the problem won’t make this any easier for you. We both know there are citizens on Verdant still loyal to the Union. Your forces are no exception, perhaps even more likely to harbor such loyalties.”
Rieve stared at him with pinprick dark eyes. “What is it you want? I figured you invited me here to talk strategy before deploying your forces.”
Hella had a brief laugh. “I would very much like to do that, General Rieve. We will win, with or without your support, but it would be much easier to have it.”
“You do have it, one hundred percent.”
“But if you can’t prove it by stating your men harbor no Union loyalties, then what good is your assurance?” Silence hung between them.
Rieve’s expression stated he didn’t give a shit what Hella thought of the Guard’s loyalty.
“All right, I’ll answer for you: none. I don’t want my Marines supported in battle by a questionable force. And you will support us, general.”
“Those are my orders from the governor.”
“I’m pleased that you can obey orders. Here are mine.”
Rieve rolled his eyes, let out a breath, and said, “You have no right—”
“Don’t you look at me like that.” Hella’s face contorted into a scowl upon raising his voice, something he rarely did—he rarely had to.
Startled, Rieve flinched slightly at the outburst.
“And I have every right to issue you orders—your governor confirmed that when he contacted the Alliance for help.”
“So what are they?” he growled.
“An assurance of loyalty. I need your cooperation in helping us vet your commanders’ histories. I want to know who else trained under the Union, who has ties to them, either business or personal. Have you ever looked into that?”
“No. I know who I can trust.”
“I don’t, and that’s why we have a problem,” Hella explained.
“Have you spoken to Governor Misawa?”
“No.” He stared at the man, his facial scar like a bottomless chasm in the dim light. “Why the hell would I? You run the military.”
“His office keeps track—”
“Splendid. Go through his records and find out who is questionable and who can be trusted. Don’t dally, either; I expect a full and accurate report, including source materials, by the end of the week when I land 79th Division on the surface. I do not wish to put your men under my direct command, general, but I will do so if need be. As for you… Well, your position would become superfluous in that case, would it not?”
After several seconds of silence, Rieve said, “Very well, I’ll take care of it. I can also fill in some of the holes in my own intel report, if you’d like.” He pointed to Hella’s display screen.
“Well, you’re certainly razor sharp, General Rieve. We’ll review it after my intel men finish digging up your past. In the meantime, begin the process of rooting out potential traitors to our cause. You have only a few days, so I suggest you get busy. Now, let’s go over your unit strengths and their current positions.”
Rieve didn’t have many men, so it didn’t take long. The numbers he gave jibed with those Hella had received from intel. At least he knows that much. When talk turned to tactics, Rieve suddenly became more attentive and helpful. He puzzled Hella to some degree, and therefore earned a tiny measure of his respect. Hella chalked up his indifferent personality to being a prima donna. As commander of the military, he likely rated more respect than Governor Misawa and was accustomed to being treated accordingly.
Not in my presence. Not until you’ve earned the right.
Rocco knocked and entered as Hella’s meeting with the general was concluding. “I’ll get my commanders to work on this right away,” Rieve said.
“Vet your ranking commanders yourself, general. I want no man overlooked.”
“Understood.”
“Excellent. I look forward to reading your report. Dismissed.”
With an ominous glance at Rocco, Rieve left to return to Verdant.
“It’s time, sir. Your staff is assembled.”
“Very good, master sergeant.”
After checking his camouflage utility uniform in the mirror, Hella and Rocco left for the meeting room. “I’m getting your field headquarters together, sir; it’ll be ready in two days.”
“Two days ahead of schedule. Well done.” With Hella’s name behind him and his own zealous tenacity, Rocco could arrange damn near anything, always ahead of schedule and usually in overabundance. “One day I’m going to give you an impossible assignment, Rocco.”
“Like helping General Rieve figure out who the spies are, sir?”
“Don’t tempt me; it’s not a bad idea.” If Rocco assisted Rieve, interrogations would begin immediately.
Seven officers, five Marines and two Navy, rose to attention when Hella entered the briefing room. “At ease,” he said, taking his seat. Rocco sat at a desk next to the wall. An administrative bot in a corner would record the minutes. “I’ll take the intel brief first, General Hoffman.”
Major General Hoffman, Third Corps S-2, pressed a button; a neon blue hologram of Verdant appeared over the table. Green and yellow dots indicated positions of Marine and Verdant Guard forces respectively, red signified suspected insurgent strongholds. Rear Admiral Turner had gathered most of the intel.
They reviewed positions and unit strengths. “Admiral, are you certain there’s only one battalion of guards stationed outside of Darmatian?” Hella asked.
“As of this morning, sir,” Turner responded without hesitation.
Hella had never worked with Turner, but he had Erskin’s trust, and his reputation preceded him. Turner’s report contradicted General Rieve, who had stated three battalions were in the area. Rieve is either ignorant of his troop locations, misinformed, or lying. He would decide which in the c
oming days.
“Very well. You’ve done a fine job monitoring the situation, admiral.”
“Thank you, sir. We’re doing our best to stay on top of it, General Hoffman and I.”
“I appreciate that. What have your informants uncovered?”
Turner’s face fell a bit. “They’re working, sir, but nothing yet. Infiltrations take time, but one of my men has connected with an operative from Alliance Intelligence, who’s been cultivating a relationship with an insurgent leader. Their operative is waiting for the right chance to introduce our man.”
This took Hella aback. “Alliance Intel is actually cooperating with your agent?”
“Yes, sir.”
I have Markham to thank for that. “That’s refreshing to hear. Keep me posted on his progress in addition to the usual updates. I met with General Rieve earlier this evening. The man does not inspire confidence, but we’ll have to work with him as it stands now.”
“I don’t trust him, sir,” Turner said.
“Nor do I. But without damning information we can’t get rid of him. Admiral Turner, you’ll carry on as you have from the beginning. General Hoffman, I want you to assign your most able officers to investigate Rieve and Governor Misawa. Admiral Turner has turned up little on them, but that wasn’t his purpose in gathering preliminary intel. Make it yours. I want to know what they’re hiding and who they’re in bed with. Particularly the general.”
“Aye, sir,” Hoffman said. “Rieve appears to be the de facto governor.”
“He does indeed. Now let’s move on to the deployment of 79th Division to the surface.” He turned to the smiling, buzz-cut naval man seated down the table. “Rear Admiral Stillwell, is it?”
“Yes, sir, the pleasure is mine, General Hella. Grand Admiral Deely speaks very highly of you.”
“Is that a fact?” Hella asked in equally jocular fashion.
“Yes, sir. I think he called you the modern Hannibal if I’m not mistaken.”
Hella kept an amused countenance, as if he enjoyed the flavor of a good bullshit sandwich. He didn’t doubt that Deely called him things; he knew Hannibal wasn’t one of them. That wasn’t even a good try, Stillwell. But it never hurt to let an eager beaver get his nose brown once in a while. “Well that’s very complimentary of the grand admiral to say so. How many transports do you have available to put 79th Division on the surface?”
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