Lost in thought, Torrance barely noticed the passing of the city’s famous landmarks as his vehicle threaded its way through the congested thoroughfares of the Alliance capital. In no time at all, the car was being waved though a security checkpoint and directed to the underground parking area beneath Government House. Minutes later, Torrance and Seagers found themselves being escorted through a series of marbled corridors and through yet another security checkpoint before they were finally ushered into an ante-room leading to their ultimate destination – the lair of the War Council.
Inside the ante room, three men stood huddled in a group, heads bowed and deep in conversation. A fourth stood alone, back straight and head held high, a legacy of twenty years of military service. Soldier turned politician, the Defense Secretary immediately walked across to shake Torrance firmly by the hand. “Welcome, General, and congratulations on your promotion. It’s good to have you here.”
“Thank you, sir. It’s a great honor.”
“You may wish to save the thanks for later, General, for I’m not sure if you know what you’ve let yourself in for. I fear your first battle will be a political one.” Torrance couldn’t help but notice that the Defense Secretary’s countenance was grim.
“How’s the mood?”
“Not good. As you might imagine, the First Minister is under severe pressure. Part of it is his own doing, of course, but he’s running out of support fast, and even some of his oldest allies are deserting him. It won’t take much to bring him down and if he goes, the whole damn government will likely collapse. And meanwhile, the vultures are circling. The First Minister badly needs to develop a coherent defense strategy that the other war council members – and the senate – will buy into. And that, General, is where you come in. For now, I give you fair warning that while you can count on my full support, you will find that not everyone in this room is entirely on your side.” He nodded his head in the general direction of the three men on the other side of the room.
“The Secretary of the Interior?” said Torrance.
“His reputation precedes him, I see.”
“I don’t think it’s any secret that he’s opposed to the war.”
“Has been for years,” said Defense. “There’s nothing wrong with that in principle, and God knows, the quest for peace is an honorable one. The trouble is that some of his ideas are radical at best.”
“And at worst?”
“Downright dangerous.”
“How much support does he enjoy?”
“Until recently, very little, but it’s been growing steadily of late – perhaps understandably. He was only elevated to his present post to placate the growing peace movement but he’s been very, very adept at using his position to drum up extra support.”
“Among the other War Council members?”
“Difficult to say. The Armaments Secretary is a career politician and the longest serving member of the council. He’s a wily old fox but when the chips are down, I’ve never known him do anything but the right thing. As for the Secretary of the Treasury, who knows? I get the distinct impression that Interior keeps him in his pocket and only lets him out for a breath of fresh air when it serves his purpose.”
“Understood, Mr. Secretary,” he said. “Well, I’d say that the best thing to do is get to know the enemy. Perhaps I could trouble you to make the introductions.”
“It will be a pleasure,” said Defense, leading Torrance across the room. “General Torrance, may I present the Secretary of the Interior, the Secretary of Armaments and the Secretary of the Treasury.”
“Gentlemen,” said Torrance, offering his hand to each man in turn.
You could tell a great deal from a handshake. Armaments took the proffered hand and gave it a firm, almost militarily precise shake, accompanying it with a nod of the head. Respect.
Treasury gave Torrance’s hand the lightest of shakes, averting his eyes as he did so. Apprehension.
Interior looked Torrance squarely in the eye and gave the hand a firm, confident shake, head tilted slightly to the side and a half smile fixed upon his face. Condescension.
As Torrance weighed up his possible adversaries, a uniformed equerry arose from behind his desk. “The First Minister will see you now, gentlemen,” he said, opening up one of the large paneled doors set in the far wall.
Torrance, Seagers and the four secretaries made their way into the council room where the First Minister was waiting. Torrance studied the Alliance’s head of state as he rose from his seat at the center of an elegant, polished wood table. The man looked cowed, he thought. There were no other words to describe his expression. It figures. He has the weight of whole damned Alliance on his shoulders and of late there’s been precious little to help lighten the load.
The five man council took their seats along one side of the table with Torrance and Seagers seated directly opposite.
The First Minister gazed around and then cleared his throat, signifying that the meeting was now in session. “General Torrance,” he began, “On behalf of the War Council I’d like to congratulate you on your promotion. We are confident that we have chosen the right man to take up the torch carried for so long by your predecessor, Admiral Tarr. Our only regret is that that your elevation to Commander in Chief comes at such a difficult juncture. I’m sure we have our own thoughts but perhaps you could begin by giving us your appraisal of the current situation.”
“Thank you, First Minister,” said Torrance, pausing to look at each council member in turn. “First, let me say that I consider it an honor to be chosen to succeed Admiral Tarr as commander in chief of Alliance forces, and should like to remind everyone of the huge debt of gratitude we owe the admiral for leading the Alliance with distinction for so many years.”
“Hear, hear,” said Defense. The other members nodded their agreement. All save the Interior Secretary who pursed his lips, a caustic expression on his face.
That and the handshake tells me all I need to know about you, thought Torrance. “As for the present situation, I’m sure the members of this council will recognize that we face some very real challenges, and I will not attempt to play down the seriousness of our most recent reverses. However–”
“You refer to the Operation Zealous debacle,” said Interior, cutting Torrance off.
“Operation Zealous was a major reverse, sir, yes,” said Torrance carefully. “But it should be noted that–”
“Was Zealous an avoidable mistake?” asked Interior, interrupting Torrance for a second time.
“I’m not quite sure what you mean by an avoidable mistake, Mr. Secretary,” said Torrance. “Are you asking if the attack was necessary, or whether it was mismanaged either in its planning or execution?”
“Well, was it necessary?”
“From a strategic standpoint, absolutely,” said Torrance.
“But it cost us upwards of–”
“We are all well aware of the costs, Mr. Secretary,” said Torrance, cutting Interior off and playing him at his own game. “Launching the attack was the only viable option. Those bases – if and when they are completed – will pose a danger far greater than any we have faced for a decade.”
“And since we failed to destroy them, I presume the threat still remains,” said Interior pointedly.
“Yes, Mr. Secretary, that is correct.”
“Are you saying that we are losing the war?” asked the First Minister.
“No, First Minister, I am not,” said Torrance.
“Then perhaps you’d have us believe we are winning?” asked Interior, an incredulous look on his face.
“The First Minister asked the general to give his appraisal of the situation,” said Defense coolly. “Perhaps we should do him the courtesy of allowing the general to finish.”
“As you wish,” said Interior diffidently. “Pray continue, General.”
“As a soldier, I tend to worry less about who is winning or losing and more about who has the initiative, for that is where wars are
ultimately won or lost. We have lost the initiative, gentlemen – we need to take it back and take it back quickly. If we fail to react to the present threat – if we allow things continue without adjusting our strategy accordingly, then yes, I do indeed fear for the survival of the Alliance. We will indeed lose this war.
“The reality is that the dynamics of the whole front have changed. You all have a breakdown of the current forces available to us. Realistically, these forces are insufficient for us to mount any meaningful attack on the Combine, which includes any further attack on the bases which they are presently constructing on our borders. Bearing in mind that they will have had time to prepare for a new assault on their positions, any force we send out is likely to meet exactly the same fate that befell Admiral Finch’s squadrons. It would be a defeat which we can ill afford.”
“So where does that leave us, General?” asked the First Minister.
“It leaves us, sir, with some difficult decisions to make.”
“In what respect?”
“Of late, we have been losing assets more quickly than they can be replaced. Not only do we lack the forces to launch any kind of meaningful offensive, I do not believe we have sufficient forces at our disposal to hold the current line. Our strategic planning staff has explored every possible scenario. The battle simulations all point to a gradual degradation of our assets until we cease to become a coherent fighting force, probably within the next twelve to eighteen months.”
“That sounds very much like defeat to me,” said Treasury.
“If we continue with our present strategy it certainly would be,” replied Torrance. “However, I do not intend to allow that to happen. Major Seagers?”
Seagers opened his valise and withdrew a data chip, inserting it into the console before him. A moment later, a star map appeared on the screen fixed to the far wall.
“As you can see, gentlemen, the map gives a top down representation of the current strategic situation. There has always been a buffer zone – a no man’s land if you will – between our territory and that of the Combine. With the construction of Combine forward bases here, here and here,” he said, highlighting the locations with flashing red icons, “the buffer zone is reduced sufficiently to put our forward colonies of Oneida, Ebron and Haalikon within striking distance of superior Combine forces.”
Seagers then rotated the graphic on the screen to show a slice of space some distance to the rear of the Alliance forward positions.
“Ten light years behind the present front line we have seven major assets, the colonies of Falkrys, Nerys, Cronulla, Sakon, Hebron, Vela and Willan. They are arranged in an almost flat plane facing Combine space. Together they form a natural defensive network, each world a strongpoint in its own right and each capable of dispatching forces to protect its nearest neighbors. It is my intention to abandon Oneida, Ebron and Haalikon and form a new line here.”
“Surrender them to the Combine?”
“The Combine may feel emboldened to occupy them, certainly,” said Torrance. “In their shoes I would probably do the same.”
“You realize the political cost of abandoning these colonies without a fight, General, not to mention the morale factor?”
“I have considered the implications, First Minister. The fact remains that if we fritter away our remaining assets in the futile defense of our three forward possessions, we risk complete and utter defeat across the entire theater.”
“It makes sense,” said the Defense Secretary. “However unpalatable it may seem. The cost of fighting for the colonies has to be balanced by a tangible strategic return. This is no time for misplaced pride. Have you all forgotten the lessons learned from Sanda?”
Sanda… a semi autonomous world that had once stood proudly on the border between Combine and Alliance space – a great funnel through which flowed the bulk of all trade between the two blocks. The planet’s strategic position guaranteed its commercial success, turbo-charging the economy and turning the once sleepy backwater into an economic super giant. And with affluence came other riches, cultural, scientific and artistic.
And then the shooting had started. Sanda first became a glittering prize to be won and held at all costs. Then as losses mounted it was seen as more of a liability, and then later as a simple folly. Finally, both sides arrived at the conclusion that the wretched planet was no longer worth fighting for but in their pride, neither did they wish to concede it to their enemies. And so Sanda’s fate was sealed – it was reduced to a smoldering ruin, its once proud halls of commerce turned to ashes.
The First Minister looked up and down at the other council members. “Opinions?” he said.
“General Torrance,” said Armaments. “If we do give up the colonies of Oneida, Ebron and Haalikon, what guarantees do we have that the Combine will not simply utilize them to launch fresh attacks on our new front line?”
“None at all,” said Torrance. “I imagine they will try. I might even go so far as to say that I’m counting on them doing so.”
“I’m not sure I follow you, General.”
“It will allow us to trade space for time, Mr. Secretary. The Combine will use up valuable resources in occupying the three colonies and they’ll be obliged to expend even more resources constructing adequate defenses, for while it will indeed put them within striking distance of major Alliance assets, it leaves them in range of a counter attack.”
“A counter attack which, if I understand correctly, we won’t be making.”
“That is correct, but the Combine won’t know that. Their proximity will be a double edged sword. They’ll have to assume that we are preparing a counter offensive and prepare their defenses accordingly. In addition, they’ll be saddled with extended supply lines which will also require protecting.”
“And after that?” asked Armaments.
“I intend a new strategy of offensive defense. We invite the enemy to attack, give him a bloody nose and wherever possible, harry him all the way back to Combine space.”
“And how many good ships and men is that likely to cost, General?” said Interior. “And at the end of it all is there any guarantee of victory?”
“No, Mr. Secretary, but as I have already made plain, a continuation of our present strategy will simply guarantee defeat.”
“There are some who believe that whatever new strategy we implement, this is a war we can no longer win,” said Interior.
“Some even within this room,” said Defense dryly.
“I make no secret of the fact that I favor an end to the wanton slaughter of our young men and women,” retorted Interior. “There is no dishonor in seeking a peaceful settlement.”
“On what terms?” demanded Defense.
“Negotiated terms. There is no reason to believe that the Combine wouldn’t look favorably on the idea of a negotiated settlement.”
“Settlements need to be negotiated from a position of strength, not weakness,” said Defense. “The Combine have us on the ropes. Do you seriously think they would grant us favorable terms now of all times?”
“I’ve no doubt they would seek concessions, some of which – in the short term – we may find unpalatable. On the other hand, there is no need to assume that they would be completely unreasonable. We would be offering the hand of peace, and since they also have a democratically elected government, and one noted for placing emphasis on strong social values, is it not reasonable they would look favorably on the motion?”
“You seem to forget that their democratically elected government is responsible for managing only their internal affairs,” said Defense. “All external policy, including the running of the war, is decided by the ruling military junta. It is they who would dictate the terms of the surrender.”
“Armistice,” said Interior, visibly irritated.
“And what if the terms of this armistice included the surrender of our fleet?”
“If it gained us favorable terms, would it not be worth it?”
“And once surre
ndered, what would stop them from sending in a division of battleships and changing the favorable terms to less favorable ones?” replied Defense with rising anger. “Am I the only man on this side of the table that realizes that freedom – true freedom – comes at a price? We only have one chance at this, gentlemen. We must not squander our future on false hopes and promises. Make the wrong decision now and we could find ourselves stripped of our wealth and freedom, denied many of the things we now take for granted and condemned to a life of second class citizenship for generations to come.”
“Gentlemen,” said the First Minister tiredly. “This is ground which we have covered many times before. I suggest we confine our discussion to General Torrance’s proposal.”
Interior gave a wave of his hand and thrust himself back in his chair in irritation.
“General Torrance, what would you need in order to implement this new strategy,” asked Armaments.
“Our first priority must be to bolster the Alliance’s defenses, continuing a policy that Admiral Tarr began several months ago. The focus of these defenses must be centered on the seven colonies previously mentioned. I intend an immediate doubling of orbital batteries defending each world – something that can be achieved with existing stocks – with a further doubling during the months ahead.
“In front of each colony, and to a lesser extent, in the voids between them, I intend sowing multiple layers of warp field disrupters. As you will be aware, any vessel approaching within range of the disrupter arrays – typically five to ten light hours, depending of the type – will find its warp core scrambled, forcing the ship – friend or foe – to drop out of warp. As you will also be aware, without a proper shutdown it takes up to twenty four hours to reinitialize a core, leaving the vessel stranded in the meantime. As a matter of course, both we and the Combine use disrupters to prevent the enemy dropping out of warp too close to any of our assets. I intend to employ them in far greater numbers, constructing interlocking fields designed to channel the enemy’s attacks into specific, defendable channels. We can further bolster the defenses by interspersing the warp disrupters with minefields and finally, in the void between us and Combine space we can sow lines of sensors to detect enemy ship movements.”
Across Enemy Space Page 2