“So, what’s the plan, Captain?”
Mairin met the walleyed gaze of Lieutenant Thornton. “You went to the Academy, isn’t that right, Thornton?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He grinned showing imperfect teeth. Combined with his heavy eyebrows and bulging eyes, he looked like a sideshow attraction. “Graduated in April, but didn’t get selected for pilot training.”
Five months. Sonuvabitch. Probably rushed through officer training in a hurry by the TDF to fill gaps. Mairin sighed and raised her gaze to the group. “Everyone has seen this, right?” Heads nodded. She blinked the mission timer in her neurals. “We have fourteen hours until we drop on Ashland. You’ve all given warning orders to your platoons and, based on what we discuss here, my expectation is that you will go back to your platoons and brief an operations order that will detail the plan as we know it. You’re going to do that by something called the one-thirds, two-thirds rule. Anybody know what that is?”
Ulson was the only one who raised his hand. “I develop my plan in one-third of the time remaining to the mission and give my sergeants the other time to do what they need to do to have the soldiers and vehicles ready.”
“Correct.” Mairin smiled. “Lieutenant Ulson is the executive officer of the company as well as being the first platoon leader. He’ll help watch over supplies, logistics, and personnel. If you need something, see him.” Mairin laid out a printed map of their mission corridor. “Now, nobody get this dirty. I had to bribe the supply officer for the paper to actually print this out instead of trying to do this over your video screens. I’m old-fashioned.”
The group chuckled as Mairin began to speak. She’d just finished laying out their first halt position after the drop when Ulson got her attention. “Down the passageway. It’s him.”
Mairin nodded, her lips tight as she wondered what possible damage Lieutenant Colonel Coffey could do now. When Coffey hit the unit area, she heard newly-promoted First Sergeant Livingston call the troop to attention. Mairin left the Lieutenants at the table and marched up to the commander. As she did, she realized that Coffey hadn’t told the company to “carry on” or “relax” or anything. Chickenshit, she thought as she stopped three paces away. “Sir, welcome to Alpha Troop. What can I do for you today?”
Coffey scowled as she saluted and took his time returning it. “You know why I’m here, Shields?”
Mairin heard his echo off the bulkheads. This was starting well. Usually he had the presence of mind to chew her out in private and not in front of her troops. At least there wasn’t a smell of alcohol on his breath. Maybe he was drinking vodka now. “Sir, I’d assume to discuss our concept of the operation?”
“You assume wrong!” Coffey snarled. “I’m here because for the fourth time in the past week, you’ve completely ignored a directive on my behalf from the regimental training officer that all of your soldiers must complete the mandatory briefing on consideration of other species! How dare you flaunt my directive? Are you stupid or just soft in the head?”
Mairin flushed. “Consideration of other species training is hardly something I’d call mandatory in the middle of war, sir.”
“Goddamnit, Shields! I’m the commander and I make the fucking rules! You and the rest of your unit will stand-down all operations and complete this training! Is that clear?”
“Stand down? Sir, we’re fourteen hours from drop.” Mairin bit her tongue for wanting to tell Coffey that if he ever referred to her troopers as a unit with that tone of voice again, he’d eat from a straw for a month.
“Not until you finish that training!”
Mairin shook her head. “You’ll have no eyes, sir. Without some cavalry in front of you—”
“I don’t give a shit!” Coffey fumed. “I won Wolc without your assistance and I can win this fight too! You will not, and I mean absolutely will not, destroy my readiness reporting numbers for any reason! Your unit will be locked in this ship until you complete that mandatory training! Do you hear me?”
The man is delusional! “Loud and clear.” Mairin paused deliberately, staring at the smaller man. “Sir.”
Coffey spun on his heels. “What the fuck are you people staring at? Get your asses into that training module! Now!”
Mairin watched him go. Her clenched fists began to ache as Livingston approached her. “First Sergeant?”
“Yes, ma’am?”
A thought came and Mairin grinned. “You ever heard of checking the block?”
“No, ma’am I haven’t. Should I have?” He broke into a slight smile.
Mairin lowered her voice. “Find out what we have to do for this stupid training. Most likely we have to review a presentation of some type on an individual basis. Set up a rotation so we conduct pre-combat checks and inspections while we’re conducting the training. Get us to one hundred percent complete as fast as possible with the least amount of bullshit. You see what I mean?”
“Ma’am, we’ll be one hundred percent complete in the next six hours.” Livingston yelled for the platoon sergeants to assemble.
“Top, don’t get me wrong on this. All training has importance, but in the middle of a war we shouldn’t be doing stupid bullshit training like this. In these situations, we do what good soldiers do. Conduct the training, but do not waste any unnecessary time on it. How you get it done is your business.”
Livingston nodded, “I understand. That’s what good sergeants do.”
Mairin smiled and walked away. Not bad for a very newly minted first sergeant. He might actually end up being a true first sergeant before this war was over. Walking back to her lieutenants, Mairin felt at once disappointed in the Terran Defense Forces and happy that at least her unit wasn’t chickenshit. The trouble was that every unit turned chickenshit at some point. Commanders who concentrated on the minutia of training and operations usually had rough, ready troops. Those who fostered garrison princesses with spit-polished boots and perfect filing systems had soft, unreliable bunkhouse lawyers for troops, able to talk their way out of anything because being a soldier first simply wasn’t their job. Striking a balance between the two was the ultimate challenge for military leaders throughout history. The most successful ones were not always the most balanced.
What would Patton have thought about me? She almost laughed.
Surrounded by her officers, Mairin laid out her guidance to the first sergeant. “It’s really simple, folks. We do the training that is prescribed for us, but not in a way that will affect our readiness. Send your troopers to the range, to the conduct of fire trainer, and every other training aid we have. Complete the mandatory shit when we have to.”
“Seems awfully reactionary to me, ma’am,” Thornton said. “Why don’t we just lay out a plan to conduct all of the mandatory training ahead of time?”
Mairin sighed. “Proactivity is a great thing, Thornton. The problem is that in the Army being proactive tends to mean you end up doing things twice because inevitably what you do is not what someone at headquarters wants you to do, therefore you have to repeat everything. The success of command is simple—do the important things quickly, the critical things immediately, and the rest when somebody tells you to and not before.”
Thornton and the rest of the lieutenants laughed. Mairin smiled. “Now let me get off my soapbox and back to work.” She paused for a moment, showing her game face and then spoke. “Ashland is a smaller planet than Wolc and the terrain is much more open. We’re talking lava flows and small hills. Not going to be any real cover or concealment. We’ve been ordered into a defensive posture, which means that right now combat engineers are down there trying to dig positions for us while the orbital gun platforms attempt to keep the Greys from attacking Port Selkirk. Intelligence suggests the Greys want to take out the port.”
One of the other lieutenants, a sandy-haired boy named MacDougal asked, “What’s so special about the port, Captain?”
“Natural resources.” Mairin gestured at the map. “Primarily precious metals and the like.
Remember, this is a volcanically active planet, much more so than Earth but not nearly as bad as Io. Molten ores and precious metals are what brought miners here during the colonization push. Given what we know about the Greys and their vehicles, this is a place where they can get an almost infinite supply of resources.”
MacDougal nodded, “Are the Grey vehicles really Russian T-55s?”
Ulson replied. “No, they only look like T-55s. Why the Greys chose the T-55 design is beyond anyone, but what matters is the Grey version has a much better gun, uses repulsors for primary movement, and in the open it’s fast.” He pointed to the map. “On terrain like this, maneuver has a serious advantage.”
He even sounds like a professional soldier, Mairin thought with something she recognized as pride. As strange as it felt, she enjoyed it. “He’s right.” Mairin pointed at the map. “We’re supposed to be here, in a defensive line along the eastern flank. I’ve recommended we perform a screen mission, essentially keeping the enemy at least partially focused on us. We’ll move across the sector about five thousand meters from the regiment. This is important because, given the size of Ashland, we’ll be essentially operating at the very edge of the visible limit to the regiment. When the Greys decide to light us up, the regiment will know. We’ll withdraw back towards our position and, if the Greys follow that path, the obstacles and mines being laid by the engineers will take some of them out before they become a threat to the regiment.”
“We’ll have a path through those obstacles?” Thornton asked.
Mairin nodded. “That’s your job, Lieutenant. You’re going to have to liaise with the engineer company and get the path marked for us. From what we know, the Greys don’t employ scouts, so they won’t really see what we’re doing out there. We just have to be in position and cause the Greys to give away their dispersion and strategy in advance. We relay that information to regiment and then get out of Dodge.”
“So we’re expecting to get hit?” Lieutenant Mayers asked quietly. “I’m not sure I like that approach, ma’am.”
Mairin looked at him for a long second. The soft-spoken kid from Indiana seemed scared, but Mairin sensed there was an intelligence weighing the risks and looking carefully at the odds for survival. “Understand, Mayers, that getting hit is not sitting there and firing weapons at standoff distances at one another until we die in place. We’re going to defend ourselves enough to let them know we’re there, and then withdraw by fire, getting them to follow us. We’ll take some fire, and we’ll give some, but we’re not going to sit there and duke it out with them.”
Mayers nodded. “I’d assume that, as we withdraw, we’ll try to alternate movements?”
“Bounding. You got it.” Mairin nodded at him. “That’s your job, Mayers. You and MacDougal will bound back providing cover for Thornton and Ulson to lead us out the path. Ulson will take care of aerial overwatch. I’m expecting the Greys to have realized the importance of air support.” Mairin looked at them. “Okay, that’s what I have for you now. Any questions?”
There were none. “Be back here in an hour, and we’ll review the plan and do a map rehearsal. Thornton and Ulson, make your coordinations with the engineers and the flyboys. We’ve got a lot of work to do. Get your plans done and get some sleep.”
Thornton squinted. “Where are you headed, ma’am?”
“To do exactly what I told you to do, Thornton. You may be up for twenty-four hours this mission. Good soldiers sleep any time and any place they can. I suggest you do the same.”
* * * * *
Thirty-Nine
The media firestorm fizzled out after only a few weeks, much to Tallenaara’s delight. Though the circumstances of a horrific tsunami that engulfed the main islands of the Philippine Free State peeled the cameras away from her new apartment, adjusting to the attention was difficult. With her required security detail, resuming a more normal daily life of teaching and mentoring fit her like a proverbial glove, and she relished the opportunity to be just another professor instead of the next Prelate Consort of Earth.
The afternoon clouds parted for a bit as the breeze freshened. Spring arrived with warmth and less rain than the typical British winter season. Office windows open to the cool air, she sat twiddling a light pen above her desk at the unfinished building design she’d started two hours ago before her attention wandered. She stared at the two-carat diamond ring on her finger, a silly, beautiful tradition of Earth, and watched the light explode in rainbow shimmers and mirrored reflections.
Andrew had asked her to marry him on the golden coast of Australia after a day diving the Great Barrier Reef. The sun setting to the west, the sound of kookaburras in the coastal trees, and his warm hand on the small of her back as they walked along the deserted beach. She’d slipped into a sundress, something vaguely like the ceremonial robes of Styrah but functionally better for humans. Andrew had rolled up his khaki pants and the sleeves of his dark blue shirt without a word. He’d been distracted and nervous all day. Even to the point she’d had to remind him, with a persistent tugging of his wetsuit, that he needed to relax and decompress before surfacing from their last dive. Neither spoke for a long time as they walked.
“What’s been on your mind all day?”
Andrew smiled with a touch of color in his cheeks. “Have I seemed distracted?”
“Very much so,” Tallenaara replied. “Is something worrying you?”
“Besides the fifty million problems I seem to have inherited and deal with on a daily basis?” Andrew looked out to sea. “Yes, something is worrying me.”
They stopped walking and Tallenaara stepped in front of him. “Then tell me.”
Andrew took her hands in his and sighed. “I’ve been thinking a lot about my father recently. What he would have said about us as the world changed. I wish he could see how happy I am.”
“I think he wanted you to be happy, Andy.”
“He did.” Andrew curled his upper lip slightly. “And I think when he died, he knew I realized I’d made a mistake and should have stood up to him.”
Tallenaara shrugged. “You can’t take back those years, Andy. You have to lay that burden down.”
Andrew chuckled. “I have laid it down, Tally. Never to pick it up again.”
“Then what’s on your mind, love?”
“It’s quite hard to describe actually.” Andrew smiled. “There’s really not a good way to put it with words.” He stepped away but held her hands tightly. “I’d planned to take you to a fabulous restaurant in Beijing tonight, but somehow this is better.”
“What are you talking about, Andrew?” Tallenaara smiled and cocked her head to one side.
Andrew looked in her eyes for a few seconds, sighed, and knelt in the sand. He pulled a hand back and reached into his pocket. “I’m not meaning to surprise you, Tally. I know we’ve talked about this a little.”
Gods, Tally thought and bit her bottom lip slightly. “Andy, are you....”
He pulled out the ring and held it up on a line between their eyes. “Will you marry me, Tallenaara?”
There were doubts, concerns, and reasons not to. She’d played them over in her mind the first time he’d mentioned her as the Prelate Consort to be. Staring at the ring and Andy’s hopeful eyes, she knew the doubts, concerns and reasons not to simply didn’t matter. Her hearts thumped with such force that she barely heard herself respond. “Yes. Yes, I’ll marry you Andy.”
“You know what this will mean?” Andy asked.
Tallenaara nodded. “I do. And I won’t like it.”
“But,” Andrew coaxed.
“I’ll have you,” she answered with a smile. And it had felt perfect and right.
Yet, sitting in the afternoon sun and smiling at her gorgeous ring, her thoughts turned to Mairin. What would she say? Would she be happy or sad? Did she bother to think about them and their time on Libretto? What would she think when she saw the press coverage? All of her efforts to contact Mairin were unanswered, and while she was capa
ble of getting the information from a variety of sources close to Andrew, she hadn’t asked anyone for Mairin’s sake.
Without news to the contrary, it was just as likely that Mairin had died along with the thirty thousand soldiers on Wolc. That’s when the messages stopped. The casualty lists gave her no definitive information. Without that contact, she knew it was possible that she’d died in the ferocious battle. Andrew called it a pyrrhic victory, a victory at great cost. He has no idea how great, Tallenaara thought. I wish I could have given you something so beautiful, Mairin. I hope your soul rests well on the fields of Elysium, or Valhalla, wherever you will go. Time for grieving would soon be over, though it was private and borne alone. She sighed. Her fiancé needed her, and she realized with equal importance that she needed him. For that she was thankful to the Council for sending her here. Somehow, they’d known what was best for her.
The vidphone sounded off, announcing a subspace call on Andrew’s private line. “Hello?”
“Lady Tallenaara!” Darren McMasters.
“Hello, Darren. What’s going on?”
McMasters smiled. “One of my official jobs seems to be messenger for the Prelate’s Consort to be.” He nodded. “Andrew asked me to call you. He’s still in conference with the Tueg delegation. Frankly, I’m not sure how much longer he may be in there.”
“Are things going badly?”
McMasters grin became tight. “They’re not going as well as we’d hoped, no. Obviously I can’t speak to it now on this connection. Just know that Andrew will be in touch as soon as he can be. I have about ten seconds before this connection ends. Any message?”
“Just my love and we’ll talk soon.” The connection faded to an image of the Prelate’s sigil and then a blank screen. Tallenaara frowned and wondered just how bad it could be. Were the Tuegs really considering a withdrawal from the Legion? Absently, she cued her desk to review Tuegan architectural designs. For all their diplomatic prowess and ethics, they were not the most artistic species.
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