Star Marine!

by John Bowers

  "Is that so?" Elliot replied creamily. "Perhaps you should join the Space Force yourself, then."

  "Yes, sir. I think that's what I'm going to do." Wade swept earnest eyes across the rest of the class. "If the rest of you don't believe in our way of life, you can stay here and listen to this shit!"

  He went out the door.

  "Insolent little fuck!" Elliott snarled. He turned to resume his lecture, but stopped again. Three more students were coming down the steps. Before they reached the front five more were on their feet, then six more, then eleven more. Then it was a steady flow, and in less than two minutes only one bookish student remained seated high in the gallery. Elliott, shaken, glared up at him.

  "What about you, Mr. Mallory?" he demanded sarcastically. "Aren't you going to leave, too?"

  Mallory jerked awake and blinked in surprise. For a disoriented five seconds he didn't move.

  "Where did everybody go?"

  * * *

  Regina Wells was seated on a bench with her back against a huge oak tree, staring up through crimson leaves at the chill afternoon sky, when Wade Palmer found her. He stood looking down at her and shook his head.

  "God damn!" he breathed. "You sure know how to light a fuse!"

  She sniffed and wiped her eyes, swallowing to clear her throat. He settled down beside her and laid his books on the bench.

  "Everybody walked out," he said.

  "They did?"

  "Elliott's in there lecturing to himself."

  Her green eyes flashed briefly. "Same way he has sex, I imagine," she observed.

  Wade laughed. "You sound like your father's daughter."

  "Oh, fuck you, Wade!"

  "Some day you're going to say that and mean it. When you do, I'll take you up on it."

  "Don't try to make me laugh."

  He sighed and stretched.

  "Anyway, I'm proud of you. Somebody should have shut that son of a bitch up a long time ago."

  "I didn't shut him up. I just got myself in a jam. Now I'm probably gonna get thrown out of the university." Her anger reasserted itself. "But I don't care any more. Nobody should have to listen to his shit! He ought to be arrested!"

  "For voicing his opinion?" Wade shook his head. "Not in a democracy."

  "It's wartime. Even democracies impose some sanctions during national emergencies."

  "Never happen. Anyway, it's not necessary. By this time tomorrow, everyone on campus will know what you did. And you know what?" He leaned forward and pointed. "They're gonna build you a statue, right over there. 'Regina Wells, Defender of Truth'!"

  She broke down and laughed, swatted at him playfully.

  "Stop it!"

  He put his arms around her and pulled her against him, pressing his face into her thick red hair.

  "Oh, God! I love you, Regina! Did I ever tell you that?"

  "Not more than twice a day since my freshman year."

  He kissed her freckled cheek and let her go.

  "Come on, let's get something to eat. Get your mind off your troubles."

  "My troubles are just beginning," she replied, sobering. "I have to tell my dad what happened before he hears it from the dean."

  Chapter 3

  Friday, 12 October, 0227 (PCC) –San Francisco, CA, North America, Terra

  FEDERATION INTELLIGENCE AGENCY

  LEVEL 2 CLASSIFIED

  Report #110-43876-1

  Operation Titan

  Post-Operation Analysis

  11 October, 0227

  Section I - Objective

  In an attempt to take the offensive against Sirian aggression, War Directive 305 sets the agenda as follows: To take back the Outer Worlds and liberate Federation citizens from Sirian occupation. This is to be accomplished via the following steps:

  A) Engage the enemy fleet within the Solar System and reduce his ability to sustain combat operations against us.

  B) Affect landings on Titan, Europa, and Ganymede, and relieve the civilian population currently under Sirian occupation.

  This report deals with the Titan landings only.

  Section II - Execution

  War Directive 305 was put into execution 17 July, 0227 (PCC). The Confederate fleet was engaged by Task Force 2 in the vicinity of Saturn, with moderate success. The Titan landing took place on 21 July. The first objective was the liberation of Saturnia, capital of Titan. The initial landing was undertaken by the 3rd Star Marine Division, followed by the 1st and 5th Star Marine Divisions. Once the LZ was established, the 11th and 15th Star Infantry Divisions were brought aground.

  Saturnia was liberated four days after the initial landing, and within six days four more cities were retaken. The enemy retreated into the high plateaus of the Black Ridge Mountains, where they fought stubbornly until 19 August, at which time they were forced to capitulate. Nineteen thousand prisoners were taken. Sirian casualties were calculated at 11,000 dead and wounded. Federation losses on the ground are calculated at 9700 dead and wounded.

  Section III - Problems

  A number of problems plagued Federation forces during the assault on Titan, resulting in losses that exceeded expectations by more than sixty percent.

  1. In spite of the success of fleet operations in the area, a sizeable battle force opposed Federation fighters when we attempted to land ground troops. Preliminary intelligence stated that all enemy fighter forces on Titan had been accounted for, and the landing was expected to be a surprise. Yet the first wave of landing craft was ambushed by enemy space power with extreme loss of life. Four loaded transports were destroyed, as well as six landers that had already been launched. Only seven men from 33rd Star Marine Regiment survived.

  2. The landing zone was chosen for its favorable terrain, even though it was over ninety miles from Saturnia, the primary objective. Engaging enemy forces around Saturnia necessitated crossing the Black Ridge Mountains, key to which was 22-Mile Pass. When lead elements of the 3rd Star Marine Division reached 22-Mile Pass they found it heavily defended by entrenched Sirian armor. Space strikes were not possible due to enemy space power in the region. Twenty-two Mile Pass was not cleared until 24 July, three days after the invasion.

  It was anticipated that the Sirians would not be prepared for a full-scale planetoid assault until the fleet battle had been resolved. Instead, we found them dug in and waiting. Objectives that were expected to be taken quickly were, in fact, taken only after prolonged combat, resulting not only in unexpected military losses, but unnecessary civilian loss as well.

  Our initial success was impeded by two factors: (1) fighter cover over Titan, and (2) alertness of Sirian armor on the ground.

  Section IV - Conclusions & Recommendations

  Logic suggests only two likely explanations for the enemy's alertness and preparedness for the Titan landings: 1) poorly executed maneuvers, or 2) prior knowledge by the enemy.

  Although this is the first time Federation ground forces have engaged the enemy, all units were rated as performing extremely well, even though the operational plan collapsed at the outset.

  Interrogation of Sirian prisoners captured on Titan has revealed that the defenders of Titan did, in fact, know in advance the date and location of the Star Marines' assault. Sirian enlisted men reported that they had been advised of a likely Federation landing and were in position two full days in advance of the landings. Sirian officers have been less forthcoming with information, but have nevertheless confirmed that advance warning was received. Enemy database repositories were destroyed to prevent capture, but intelligence has determined that advance warning reached the Titan garrison up to six days prior to the landings. We are, therefore, reasonably certain that Federation military security has been compromised.

  It is therefore recommended that all subsequent military operations be suspended or reevaluated in the light of the possibility that one or more leaks exist in the Federation military community. If such a leak does exist, every means possible must be taken to locate, isolate, and eliminate i
t.

  * * *

  "God!"

  Henry Wells closed his eyes and massaged his forehead. A leak? In the Federation military? It didn't seem possible, but the report in his lap left no doubt that someone in the FIA believed it. No one could dispute the results of the Titan landings — the blood spilled there had been far beyond what anyone expected. More men had died in the air than had been expected to die on the ground, shot out of the sky before they could even lift their weapons.

  Henry stood slowly and crossed the room to stare out the window. In spite of the gloomy weather, the view of San Francisco Bay was spectacular. To his left, the top of the Golden Gate Bridge was lost in the overcast, but the water underneath gleamed unbroken in a shaft of sunlight. The bridge had been rebuilt after the 0104 earthquake; thanks to hover technology, the pylons no longer reached the water. To the east, Alcatraz Island stood like a rock as it had for centuries. History chips said a prison had once stood there, but no one alive had ever seen it. For over a century it had been the site of San Francisco Interstellar Museum, surrounded by a park where families could picnic and enjoy the view of the bay.

  To the south, the bay stretched for thirty miles of splendid beauty. The "Big One" had also destroyed the Oakland Bay Bridge, and it had never been rebuilt. Hovercars didn't need bridges, and ground traffic used the tunnels.

  Henry stared without seeing any of it. The FIA report in his hand had his full attention. The war had been under way for six years now, and the outcome was by no means certain. Tens of thousands had already died, and experts predicted it might last another ten years.

  The enemy had come very close to victory during the first two years of the conflict. The Federation had been caught with its pants halfway down, and it had been a close thing. The Outer Worlds had been cut off and occupied within the first weeks, Terra had been bombed repeatedly, and Mars had been threatened with invasion. The only thing that prevented total collapse had been a few hundred fighter crews who had refused to give up, fighting from hidden bases in the Asteroid Belt, from camouflaged lunar bases, and from Terra.

  By the end of the second year the first spacecraft carrier had been commissioned, and some of those same fighter crews had managed to push the Sirians and their allies back a little, enough to give industry and recruiting a chance to catch up. One such pilot, the son of Henry's closest friend, had actually located and attacked an enemy carrier. That brave young pilot and his wingman had lost their lives in that attack, but it marked a turning point in the war — the enemy was no longer immune.

  His name had been Johnny Lincoln.

  But this! God! The Sirians still held the Federation by the throat, and would continue to do so until the Outer Worlds had been completely retaken. It had been an uphill battle for over six years now, and with the first goal almost in sight, there was a leak in the military.

  A leak. Did that mean spies? Or just some loose-lipped son of a bitch who talked too much to the wrong people? How did you go about finding a leak like that, in an organization that numbered in the millions?

  The intercom on his desk chirped and Henry turned from the window.

  "Yes?"

  “Senator Rice to see you, sir."

  Henry heaved a sigh and crossed back to his desk, shoving the FIA report into his safe and pushing the scramble button. He sat down and faced the door.

  "Send him in, Julie."

  The door opened and Lester Rice stepped inside, his face darkened with concern. Rice was in his early fifties, silver-haired, and drop-dead handsome, his face creased by character lines so perfect that a holovid makeup artist couldn't have improved on them. He and Henry were two of the six senators from North America, and were members of the Defense Committee.

  Rice stopped in front of Henry's desk and stared at him, worry in his eyes. Henry bit his lip and stared back; obviously Rice had just read the same report he had.

  "Is your E-Shield on?" Rice asked.

  Henry reached out and pressed the yellow button on the edge of his desk. Invisibly and inaudibly, electronic interference filled the room to scramble any attempt at overhearing or recording conversation. Rice seemed to relax slightly as he dropped into a chair.

  "Did you read the intel report?" he almost whispered.

  "Just finished it."

  "My God, Henry! What the hell do you think?"

  "I think someone had better find the leak."

  "I agree, but how? Jesus! A thousand planners were involved in that operation! It could've been any one of them, or any number! How do you track down a leak of that magnitude?"

  Henry shrugged and shook his head. "I don't, Les, and neither do you. That's FIA's job."

  "Do you realize what this means? We've been compromised! Next thing you know, the Sirians will know where we build our carriers! They can set ambushes for every future operation we try!"

  "I know."

  Rice got up and paced to the window, stared out quickly as if looking for snoopers, then turned back, clearly agitated.

  "What the hell are we gonna do?"

  "We're not going to panic," Henry said calmly. "Look, you and I are new at the business of war, but this sort of thing has happened before. Espionage is nothing new. It's been a part of warfare since the Stone Age."

  "I know! Goddammit! I know! And wars have been lost because of it! We can't afford to lose this one, Henry! We won't get a second chance!"

  "Les, will you calm down? There's no need to panic over this … "

  "I'm not panicking!"

  "I'd say you're more than a little upset … "

  "And you aren't?"

  "Yes, I am. More than a little. But we did retake Titan, so there's no immediate urgency. We have a little time. The next operation isn't scheduled for some time yet."

  "Henry, the fucking Sirians probably already know all there is to know about it!"

  "Possibly, but I don't know that for a fact, and neither do you. I think you should sit down and try to relax. Have a drink. You and I don't have to solve this one. We have trained professionals … "

  "Who've never fought a war before! They don't know any more about catching spies than I do!"

  "Well, the FIA was sharp enough to detect the possibility of a leak, so I wouldn't sell them short. Not yet, anyway."

  "And if they don't find the leak? What do we do then? Surrender?"

  Henry stood suddenly and crossed the room to his liquor cabinet. He pulled out a glass and dashed it half full of Mexican brandy, turned back and handed it to Rice.

  "Drink this," he said, making it sound like an order. "I haven't seen you this worked up since the last election."

  "This is a lot bigger than any election —"

  "That's right, it is. And we'll get through it. The important thing right now is that we don't expose ourselves. This is top-secret stuff. We can't tell a soul about it, because the last thing we want is for the Sirians to find out that we know there's a leak."

  Rice tossed back half the brandy in a single swallow, then stared at his friend thoughtfully. Henry returned to his chair and sat down.

  "Besides," Henry continued, "we don't have any confirmation of a leak. Right now it's only a suspicion. I think we should wait for the FIA to confirm it."

  "What the hell do you mean? Those Sirian prisoners already confirmed it!"

  "No, they said they had been warned in advance. That's all. They might have intercepted a SpectraWav transmission, or someone who knew the ops plan might have been captured. There's any number of ways the Sirians could've learned of the attack. It doesn't take a warp scientist to figure out that when we attack their fleet in the Saturn system we also just might try to land troops."

  "Henry, they knew the date! They knew where the LZ was!"

  "Yes, so they probably had got hold of at least part of the plan. That still doesn't prove there's a leak. That's why I think the FIA needs to confirm that there actually is one."

  "How will they do that?"

  "I have no idea. But
you can be certain they'll figure out a way. It's what they're paid to do."

  Rice swallowed the rest of the brandy and set the glass on the desk. He settled into a chair and buried his face in both hands, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly.

  "Goddamn!" he sighed. "I'm sorry. I guess I'm overreacting, but it's just such a shock."

  "Don't apologize. I feel the same way you do. But I think we have to keep our heads. This war is going to have a long run, and I think we're going to be in for a lot more rude surprises."

  Rice nodded slowly, staring at the desk with unfocused eyes.

  "I plan to call a Defense Committee meeting very soon," Henry continued. "As soon as the rest of the committee reads this report. If you have any thoughts, hold them until then. Any and all suggestions will be taken very seriously."

  Rice pulled himself upright with an effort, frowning to focus his concentration. Suddenly he looked more senatorial.

  "You're right, of course. God, I don't know what came over me. I just … We've been through so much already, and it's taken six years just to get an assault together to take back the Outer Worlds. Then this!"

  Henry favored him with a forgiving smile.

  "I understand, Les. I understand completely."

  Chapter 4

  The Federation Complex was located at the foot of Powell Street, where it bisected Market. After the 2104 earthquake the entire downtown area had been rebuilt; even those skyscrapers that survived the shake were so unstable they'd been torn down. Powell and Market was now the site of Federation government in North America. The Complex was surprisingly unpretentious; the building in which Henry Wells and the other senators had their offices was only thirty stories, dwarfed by other nearby buildings. The modern tendency was to downplay the seats of government; the concept of Federation was to put more power into the hands of the citizens. All the citizens. The United Solar Federation represented the interests of six worlds and numerous asteroids.

  The sun had set when Regina Wells exited a hovercab in front of the Complex and set out on foot toward her father's office. The wind had come up and she tugged her coat more tightly, her red hair whipping in the chill breeze. The weather reflected her own mood; she felt somewhat overcast herself, no longer her usual vivacious self. A knot in the pit of her stomach hadn't dissolved as she crossed the bay from Berkeley, and the cold in her bones came from an unfamiliar sensation of dread. It was hard to believe she was doing this, that she was coming here tonight. Her dad was going to be supremely disappointed in her, and it was all her fault.