by Jay Allan
Holm broke in before Cain could answer. "Look guys, we really need to discuss how we're going to handle this." Erik opened his mouth to say something, but Holm put up his hand. "I'm serious, Erik. I know how you feel about Alliance Gov, but we're stuck with this for now."
He shoved the 'pad across his desk toward his guests. "That's a dispatch from General Samuels about these political officers. I'll let you read the whole thing, but for now let me summarize. We are to accept these liaison officers without causing any problems until he sends me further instructions. Now Samuels is my boss, and I'm yours, so I guess that's all any of us need to know." Holm spoke to his officers in a relaxed tone, but no one who knew him thought he invited any debate.
Cain leaned back and sighed. He wasn't going to argue. The general was half hero and half father to him; he'd do anything Holm asked. He just wished it was something easier...like charging an enemy bunker with a kitchen knife. "Sir," Cain finally said, "I understand your orders but, if I may ask, what do you make of this whole thing?"
Holm leaned back in his chair and took a breath. "Honestly, Erik, I'm not sure. We all know how things are run back on Earth. It's easy for us to forget just how little of that we have to put up with out here. I suppose it's possible that Alliance Gov just wants more direct information on the war. This is their fight too, and they bear a lot of the cost."
Cain looked skeptical. "Is that what you really think?"
"I just don't know, Erik." Holm shook his head slowly. "The Corps is a lot bigger than it used to be. What was a frontier defense force is now a pretty big army, not to mention the only Alliance ground force that has combat experience. Maybe they are going to try to change the relationship we've had for the last century. I just don't know."
Erik shifted his weight in the chair. He wanted to say something, but he wasn't sure he should.
Holm could see Cain was troubled. "You can speak your mind here, Erik. You should know that by now."
Cain looked at Jax, then at the general. "Well, sir, I don't suppose I know any more than you, but I just can't escape the feeling that whatever we think it is, the truth is probably far worse." He looked at Jax again and back at Holm. "I know none of us talk about our pasts; that's all washed away when we make that first assault. But I know what I saw growing up, and I know what Sar...what some other people went through as well." Sarah Linden was Cain's lover, and she'd told Erik about her suffering at the hands of a government official who'd had her kidnapped when she was a teenager.
Erik was trying to stay calm, but his face was contorted with anger as he spoke. "I remember what I saw when I got sent back there to give speeches and pander to our political masters. That whole system is rotten, sir. Rotten to the core." He stopped, thinking maybe he had said too much.
Holm stood up and walked around his desk, sitting down on the front edge. He leaned forward and put his hand on Cain's shoulder. "Erik, you know you're like the son I never had. There's nothing you can't say to me. But I want you to be careful too. Like it or not, we're being watched a lot more closely than we were. Whatever the politicians are up to, we've still got to win this war, and I don't want my key people distracted. I don't know why General Samuels is going along with this, but he may know things I don't. For now, I'm asking you - not ordering you - not to pick a fight with your political officer. Don't let him interfere with combat efficiency, but otherwise humor him a little. It's probably the best way to keep him out of the loop. Make him suspicious of you, and he'll probably just start snooping around more and causing problems." Holm looked over at Jax. "That goes for you too, Darius."
Erik nodded to the general. "Yes sir. You're right, of course." He looked down and rubbed his hands together.
"What is it, Erik? There's something else bothering you."
"Well, sir..." Cain looked up and locked eyes with the general. "I'm just thinking about the colonies. I mean, you don't think it's just us they're going to pull this with, do you? The colonies have grown too. How much wealth do they produce now? How important have they become to the Alliance economy?"
"You're worried they're going to crack down on the colonial governments?" Holm got up and took his water bottle in his hand.
Erik paused for a second before he answered. "I'm worried they're going to try. And if they do, those people aren't going to put up with it. What are we going to do when they order us to start shooting colonists?"
"You really think things are going to go that far, Erik?" Jax had been content to listen up to now. He was more optimistic by nature than Cain, and he hadn't considered things to the extent Erik had."
Erik almost held his tongue, but he figured if he couldn't speak in front of these two, he couldn't speak in front of anyone. "Yes. I do."
General Holm sat back down behind his desk, and rubbed his face with his hand. "Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that. At least we don't have to worry about it right now. We've still got a war to fight. So let's focus on that right now, and we'll deal with the rest as we go. Whatever Alliance Gov is planning, they aren't going to do it until the war is over."
Cain and Jax both nodded their assent. "Good. So let's talk a little about what comes next. We had to call off the second half of Sherman because we lost our naval support. But we'll eventually get back on track. They can't keep most of the navy at Gliese forever; either they'll be a fight or there won't, but sooner or later they'll send us a couple battlegroups and we'll be able to finish the job."
Cain was relieved to be thinking about something other than the Alliance government. "I suggest we take the time to integrate the replacements we've received into our formations." They had lost about 10,000 troops in the three battles they'd fought, but they'd gotten fresh recruits to bring them back to establishment strength in all units. "We're probably looking at several months at least - just in transit time to and from Gliese - so I'd recommend some war games. Maybe even a couple practice assaults if you can get us the landers and supplies to burn."
Holm smiled broadly. "You're going to have my job someday, Erik. That's exactly what I was thinking." He reached into his desk and pulled out a small box. "First, I need to do some shuffling around of the command staff. You both know General Isaacson was wounded when his lander crashed on Wellington. Sarah's crew managed to keep him alive, but he's got an odd genetic marker, and they've had a hard time regenerating. He's looking at some heavy gene replacement therapy and then multiple regens. Two, maybe three years in hospital."
Cain and Jax both winced. Isaacson had been their division commander and a good officer, popular throughout the ranks.
"So," Holm continued, "I've got to replace him. I don't want to look outside the I Corps for senior officers if I can help it. So, I'm bumping Gilson to command 1st Division. Erik, I want you to take over 1st Brigade, effective immediately." He smiled at Cain's stunned look. "There's no one I trust more."
He looked over at Jax. "Darius, you'll take over the regiment." He tossed him the box he was holding. "Here are your eagles. Congratulations, Colonel Jax. You earned them."
Erik turned to face Jax and put his hand out. "There's no one who deserves it more, Jax," he said as they shook hands.
Holm stood up and walked around the desk again, putting his hand out to Jax as well. He glanced over at Cain. "I'll get you your star too, Erik. But I can't approve a promotion to general rank without an OK from General Samuels. I sent the request this morning." He gave Cain a quick grin. "Another reason I don't want you picking fights with that political officer right now."
After shaking hands with both of them and exchanging congratulatory salutes, he continued. "I want to bump up one of Jax's captains to major and give him the battalion. I'll expect a recommendation from the two of you by 1800 tonight. Try to agree and just give me one pick. I'll approve whatever you guys send up."
"Yessir." Cain and Jax spoke almost in unison.
Holm looked down and poked at his 'pad for a few seconds. "I'm sending you both some operational notes. I wan
t 1st Brigade to plan and execute an assault on Columbia. You'll be taking on 2nd Brigade, which will be defending. We'll do a simulated bombardment, and then you'll hit the ground, Erik. Review the notes, and we'll discuss again tomorrow, say 1300 hours." He glanced back down at his desk. "Dismissed."
The newly promoted officers stood up and snapped salutes to the general, Jax's sharp and crisp, Erik's a little ragged. They turned and walked toward the door.
"Oh, and gentlemen?"
They turned to face the general. "You have both seen a force assault Columbia. See if you can do better than they did, ok?"
Chapter 3
Western Alliance Intelligence Directorate HQ
Wash-Balt Metroplex, Earth
The conference room was large and very plush; the polished walnut table alone cost enough to feed a hundred starving Cogs for a year. The soft leather chairs surrounding it were no less expensive, and in these comfortable seats there were a number of well-dressed men and women. To the side of the table was a large credenza covered with platters of food. This was a lunch meeting, and the group assembled here quietly picked at their plates and fiddled with their 'pads while the waiters finished serving everyone. Finally, the last of the staff departed wordlessly, and the heavy glass doors slid shut, the clear panes turning opaque as they did.
The room had an old look to it, with its real raised panel wainscoting and antique oil paintings on the walls. The paneling alone was noteworthy - wood of any kind was an expensive commodity, and walnut of this quality was almost priceless. There were few forests remaining in 23rd century America, and almost none with the old-growth trees needed for this type of craftsmanship. The illusion of some ancient manor home's drawing room ended abruptly, however, at the single wall of floor-to-ceiling windows, which offered a kilometer-high panoramic view of the southern Washbalt skyline.
"We have a number of items to discuss, and time is short. I have to brief our British friends on the status of our operations; my transport leaves in three hours, so let's not waste any time." The speaker was a tall man, perhaps sixty years of age, his black hair sprinkled lightly with gray. His name was Gavin Stark, but only a few people in the room knew that. To most of them he was simply Number One, the head of Western Alliance intelligence and one of the most feared men on the planet. "Let's start with the Epsilon Eridani initiative. How does the excavation proceed?"
A woman seated at the opposite end of the table responded. She was tall and trim, perhaps a few years younger than Stark, though there was more gray in her hair. "Operations are almost back on schedule. As you are all aware, twelve years ago, just before the war, CAC intelligence discovered what we found on EE-4. They launched a surprise attack and took control of the planet. We were able to divert a detachment from 1st Marine division to retake the world back before they could dig in or reinforce. Or, of course, get any heavy intel from the excavation site. The battle was small - neither side was heavily mobilized at the time. In the aftermath we were able to substantially upgrade the system's defenses, and a naval battlegroup has been posted there since."
Stark put up his hand, an impatient look on his face. "Yes, Number Ten, we can bypass the history lesson. Let's focus on the implementation of the Directorate's most recent operational plan."
Mildly chastised, the woman cleared her throat softly and continued. "Yes, Number One. At our last Directorate meeting it was decided that, with the discovery of several additional excavation sites, the colonial population had become an unacceptable security threat to the overall operation. Removal has been completed in accordance with that finding."
"Has there been any blowback from the implementation?" Andres Carillon was designated as Number Three in the Directorate. He was tall, well over two meters, with white blond hair and pale skin. To look at Number One, he could have been an accountant or a college professor; Carillon, on the other hand, was everyone's image of an evil spymaster.
"No, sir." Number Ten paused to clear her throat. Carillon made her nervous. He made everyone nervous. "As per plan, we utilized our new variant of the G-11 virus family, which has a considerably higher mortality rate. Unlike the versions used during the Unification Wars, this new strain carries a specific genetic marker rendering it impotent against anyone who has received the companion vaccination. Of course, only our personnel were given the injections."
Carillon's usual grim expression gave way to a slight smile, which was somehow even more unnerving. "Was the virus 100% effective?"
"Actual mortality among the population was in excess of 94%. The rest have been liquidated through conventional methods, though we have officially attributed all deaths to the virus. We have also utilized the plan to remove the marine garrison. Their mortality rate was lower, approximately 50%, mostly because the commander responded quickly and put biohazard procedures in effect almost immediately. Nevertheless, the outbreak gave us the perfect cover to have the marines ordered offworld. Carson's World is now occupied by two battalions of our new Directorate troops. A planetary quarantine is in effect. The orbital defenses remain manned by naval personnel, and there is a reinforced battlegroup permanently assigned to system defense." She glanced down at her 'pad for an instant. "Currently, the AS Sheridan and her group is on station, reinforced by the 3rd Cruiser Squadron."
Carillon looked like he was about to say something further, but Stark spoke first. "Security seems well in hand." He turned slightly. "Number Six, what is the status of the actual excavation?"
"Progress has been slow. As you all know, this is a very sensitive project from a technical perspective." Number Six was a woman, younger than Number Ten. Indeed, she was the youngest person present. Tall, with long blond hair and blue eyes, Alex Linden had risen faster than any agent in the Directorate's history. It didn't hurt her rise that she was drop-dead gorgeous and willing to use it; before she had been appointed to the Directorate she had been the lover of two of the men and one of the women in the room. But she was brilliant too, and cold-blooded. As well as the affections of a roster of highly-placed officials, she also possessed many of their secrets. Alex was a big believer in using both the carrot and the stick to get what she wanted.
"We all know the difficulties involved, Number Six." Stark was amused at how differently he reacted to her than anyone else in the room. It was involuntary, and he found it interesting how difficult it was to suppress. Not that he would ever allow that to interfere with his decisions. But he realized he wasn't entirely immune to her charms. "I think what we need is a reliable estimate on when the shipment will be ready. We are going to need the maximum possible security on that. A full battlegroup, at least."
Alex's smile was brief, barely perceptible, though Stark saw it as she had intended. "Number One, I am confident that the first shipment of items will be ready for transit within six months. With your permission, I will go to Epsilon Eridani IV myself to supervise the final security measures."
"Yes, that is a good idea. You may leave as soon as you are ready." He paused for a few seconds. "Be careful out there." He doubted he would have added that if he were speaking to any of the others. Honestly, he wouldn't really have cared if any of the others made it back. But he'd miss Alex. He'd probably have to get rid of her one day, but for now he enjoyed having her around. "Number Ten, please clear Number Six through your onsite security and arrange a suitable cover that affords her any access she requires."
"Yes, Number One. Consider it done." She kept her voice even and professional, for which she was pleased with herself. Number Ten hated Alex Linden. Bitch was the nicest thing she called her in private.
"Very well. Let's move on. Number Four, what is the current status of our Marine Corps initiatives?"
Number Four was the only member of the Committee not present, represented instead by a hologram of a professional, middle-aged man in a stylish suit, which was likely not at all what the individual in question really looked like. Stark was the only one in the room who knew the identity of Number Four, and he in
tended to keep it that way for now. Not even pretty little Alex had been able to charm it out of him, though she'd tried with commendable enthusiasm.
"The plan is underway, but progress is slow." Number Four's voice sounded normal - too normal. A regular crowd wouldn't notice the perfection of the tones, but this was a room full of spooks, and they all could tell it was a fake. But it wasn't in any of their interests to push for information Number One didn't want to share. Not in the open, at least. "The political officers have been assigned to units currently in base. It is not practical to interfere with the command structures of deployed forces while they are on campaign."
"What response have the political officers received from the marine personnel?" Stark had a pretty good idea, but he wanted to hear it anyway.
"There has been considerable resistance." The hologram moved naturally as Number Four spoke, turning to face whoever had asked the last question. "As you know, the marines are recruited from among those who least fit in with the normal population. Their training builds on this, and the result has been an extraordinarily effective fighting force. The Corps fills a void in their lives, which creates a very high level of morale and élan. However, loyalty is to the Corps itself, and not Alliance Gov. In fact, most marine personnel harbor a level of resentment, at least against the system in general if not the government in particular."
"Yes, yes, we are aware of all of this. It is the primary reason we have initiated this plan." Number One found himself looking at the hologram as he spoke. Damn, those things are realistic, he thought as he forced himself to turn away. "But what is the status of implementation?"
"Few of the officers have truly accepted the attachment of political overseers. Instances of true insubordination have been rare, but there has been tremendous resistance to integrating the new officers into the command structures. Among the marines themselves there has been considerable grumbling. To date, we have not implemented any disciplinary measures. In fact, with virtually the entire officer corps of one mind on this matter, it will prove to be extremely difficult to impose any serious penalties. At least conventionally."