The Cost of Victory cw-2

by Jay Allan

  "Colonel Cain?" It was Anne Delacorte's voice on the comlink. Captain Delacorte was Cain's orderly, and she'd proven to be a tremendous asset. Smart and resourceful, she'd also turned out to be a first-class scrounger…an informal skill greatly valued in any military organization. Erik had personally arranged her promotion to captain when they’d returned to Columbia from Operation Sherman.

  "Yes, Anne. What is it?"

  "Sir, the special action teams are all embarked and we have received launch clearance." Her voice was cheerful, but fatigued. Getting 3,600 troops loaded onto shuttles and into orbit was a significant task. It had been a stressful day all around. "General Holm has requested that you ride up with him, sir. Do you want us to lift, or should we wait for you?"

  "No, you might as well get going." He changed his direction - General Holm's shuttle was on the other side of the field, a couple klicks beyond where his own people were loaded up. "When you dock, tell Colonel Jax I don't know how long I will be, and he should make sure the brigade is settled in."

  "Yes, sir." She paused. "What should I tell Captain Warren, sir?" Her voice sounded like she'd bitten into something sour.

  "Tell him I finally cracked and spaced myself."

  "Yes, sir." She tried to stifle a laugh. "Perhaps I will edit that just a bit. With your permission, of course."

  "Whatever you think best, Captain." He enjoyed teasing her a little. "I trust your judgment." He smiled, at least as much as he ever did when discussing his political officer.

  "Yes, sir. Have a good trip up, sir."

  "Thanks, Anne. You too. Cain out."

  Ok, he thought, Jax is handling the troops, and Anne is babysitting my babysitter. He let himself relax ever so slightly; there was nothing requiring his immediate attention, so he resolved to enjoy the walk over to the general's embarkation area.

  “Well isn’t this plush?” Cain walked up the gleaming metal ramp into General Holm’s shuttle. A variation on one of the larger craft used to ferry armored vehicles to and from the surface, it was a mobile command center sporting twenty workstations, allowing the general’s staff be fully functional even when landing or launching into orbit.

  Holm was leaning over the shoulder of one of his aides, staring at figures on a screen. He turned and smiled when he heard Cain’s voice. “Only the best.” He motioned to the workstations. “I’ve come to the reluctant conclusion that keeping a corps-sized operation functioning takes altogether too much work.”

  Cain laughed and stood bolt upright, snapping a reasonably decent salute at the general, at least the closest facsimile of one that could be managed in armor. “I can’t even imagine, sir. The brigade is more than enough work by itself.”

  Holm returned the salute with a smile. “Not bad, Erik. You’re getting pretty decent at that.”

  “Well, you’ve promoted me so many times I feel compelled to salute myself every morning in the mirror.” He grinned. “Practice makes perfect.”

  Holm laughed and moved toward Cain, extending his gloved hand. Powered armor gloves were made from an artificial thermoplastic material reinforced with fine iridium cable mesh. The result was highly damage-resistant, while still allowing for considerable range of movement. A trained Marine has a surprising amount of tactile dexterity, allowing him utilize his weapons, operate a range of controls and equipment, and even shake hands. “Let’s not jump right to perfect, Erik. I said decent.” He laughed as Cain took his hand and they shook. “But at least I won’t have to cover for you when we have visiting officers.”

  Holm motioned deeper in the shuttle. “Let’s get bolted in. We’re launching in five minutes.” They walked into the ship, through a hatch that led to the general’s private office. There was a desk with the chair retracted and a locking bolt extended to receive the general’s armor. There were three brackets along the side wall, and Cain walked over and backed into one.

  “Very nice.” You don’t even need to leave your office to get locked down for takeoff. He leaned back. “Hector, bolt us in.” The AI didn’t reply, but Erik felt himself pulled up to the wall as his armor locked into place.

  Holm was going through the same motions. “Saves time. I land in this thing too, don’t forget. It’s usually a little more hectic then.”

  “Liftoff in two minutes.” The shipwide com interrupted their exchange. “All personnel switch to internal life support systems.” Standard procedure. Everyone was supposed to be on their suit’s air and temperature control. That way, if the ship took damage and lost its atmospheric integrity, the occupants would all be protected. It made a lot of sense during an assault; it was less necessary on an unopposed liftoff, where a catastrophic failure was far less likely. But there was no reason not to take the extra precaution.

  Cain told Hector to close the visor and activate the internal support systems. He could see that the general was doing the same. He was just about to toggle the comlink on to continue speaking to Holm when his laser-link communicator received a tight beam and Hector piped the incoming message into his headset.

  “Erik, let’s make sure this talk is just between us.” The laser-link system allowed for direct point to point communication between Marines with line of sight to each other. Unlike the comlink, which used encryption to insure the security of broadcasts, the laser communication was impossible to breach without intercepting the tight beam. Between two armored Marines facing each other five meters apart it was absolutely secure.

  "Of course, sir. What do you…"

  Cain was interrupted by the shuttlewide announcement. "Liftoff in 10 seconds." He paused and waited for the launch. "…3, 2, 1." The ship rattled violently as the thrusters kicked in, and the heavy shuttlecraft left the ground. He could hear and feel the rumbling of the massive engines through his armor as they powered the ship rapidly into the Columbian sky.

  "What do you want to discuss, sir." Cain finished his statement once the ship was airborne and the initial commotion of launch had subsided.

  "I wanted to talk about this campaign." He paused. Erik could tell he was troubled…more so than he had already been about this whole business. "I got orders from General Samuels."

  "Sir?" Cain would probably have just nodded or looked intently at the general in a normal conversation, but you get used to the fact that buttoned up in armor there is no such thing as a facial gesture or expression. It becomes second nature to verbalize everything.

  "I am ordered to land the entire corps as quickly as possible and to search out and destroy any enemy forces in occupation."

  "But sir, we've never landed a force that large on any planet. Carson's World? It just doesn't make sense." Cain sounded confused. "Plus, it seems like bad tactics to me. Wouldn't it make sense to keep a tactical reserve in orbit? Especially when we have what has to be a surplus of force."

  "It gets stranger." Cain could tell that Holm was really uncertain about the mission, the first time he heard the general sound less than 100% confident. "We are ordered not to take prisoners. All enemy personnel, military or civilian, are to be terminated on sight."

  Cain was taken aback. War is war, and he'd been in more than one fight where his troops hadn't accepted surrenders, usually when the battle had been particularly costly or difficult. You can discuss morality and ethics all you want, but the battlefield isn't a classroom, and soldiers will repay savagery with savagery. But to be expressly ordered not to take prisoners was something new. As far as he could tell, an Alliance military force had never had such a directive. This mission was getting stranger and stranger.

  "I can see by the uncharacteristic silence that you think it is odd as well." Holm's voice was soft, as if he were whispering even though their conversation was totally secure. "There is something very wrong about all of this. I can't even begin to guess at what it is, but I know in my gut we're going to encounter some real surprises in this campaign." He paused. "And I want us to be ready for them." Another pause. "I want you to help me be ready."

  "What can I d
o, sir?" Cain often second-guessed himself, but that was all in his head. He, like the general, was always decisive and confident in action, but for once, Erik Cain had no idea what to do.

  "We need to be ready to deal with whatever happens." Holm hesitated, trying to decide how to say what he was thinking. "We have no idea what enemy forces we're going to be facing. So first we need to take care of business and win the battle."

  "I don't like landing everyone immediately." Cain was thinking out loud. "A planet's a big place, and we lose the ability to react to enemy force concentrations if we don't have a significant reserve in orbit." He hesitated. "Do you think we can, ah, slow down the landing? Maybe take a little longer to get everyone planetside?"

  "We're going to try, Erik. But don't forget the political officers. They know the orders too, and if we drag our feet too much they're going to figure it out." He paused. "I have a few tricks I'm going to use, but we're going to have to figure out what's going on pretty quickly if we're going to have time to react."

  "I can vouch for 1st Brigade, sir. Land us first, and I will tear the place apart and find out what the deal is with all of this urgency."

  Holm smiled, though in armor, of course, it lost any communication value. "I was thinking just that, Erik." He paused for a beat. "And more."

  "More, sir? What do you want me to do?"

  "You trust all the officers in your special action teams, don't you? I mean really trust them?

  "With my life, sir." Cain's reply was immediate and firm…just what Holm was hoping for. "Whatever you need, the teams will be ready."

  "Erik, most of 1st Corps is going to land and defeat the enemy occupying Carson's World." He took a deep breath. "The special action teams are going to have a different mission, a very discrete one. I want you to deploy them to scout around and find out what is happening on the planet. You will need to be careful and not attract any suspicion. It won't seem all that strange for small teams of our elite troops to be out on scouting missions."

  "I'll handle it, sir." Cain had a lot of questions and doubts about this mission too, and he was thrilled to have the general's permission to snoop around. He had a much more pessimistic view of things than Holm did; he wasn't suspicious like the general was - he was positive there was something wrong, and equally certain Alliance Gov was behind it somehow.

  "You'll have to deal directly with the company commanders. Major Jensen has his own political officer, and you'll have enough trouble keeping Captain Warren in the dark without having to worry about another one." Holm's voice was a little sad. He hated feeling like he couldn't communicate freely with his own officers. "We're also going to have to be careful how we relay information on this. We're not going to be able to do this through Sarah like we could here. Pass the word, anything to do with this is to be discussed one to one on laser-link only."

  "Yes, sir." Cain was already thinking about how to deploy his teams. "You can count on me, general."

  Holm laughed. "I know that, Erik. I hope there's no doubt on that score." The ship vibrated as the engines shut down. They could feel the weightlessness as the shuttle achieved its orbit. An instant later the small positioning thrusters fired, moving the craft slowly toward the waiting transport. "We'll be docked in a couple minutes, so let's wrap up now. Your brigade will land first, so you're going to have your hands full. As soon as you can, go over what we discussed with Jax and get him to help you with the teams." Short pause. "And Erik?"

  "Yes, sir?"

  "Don't forget we're probably going to have a nasty fight on our hands. I'm sure we're not getting the full intel, and we don't know what has made EE-4 so important, but they aren't sending the entire corps for no reason. This operation is costing more than the entire Second Frontier War, so we have to assume there is a good reason to use so much force. So be careful down there."

  "You know me, sir. Caution is my middle name."

  Holm snorted a laugh. "Only if 'lack of" is your first name. No more medals, Erik. Be careful. I can't afford to lose you, ok?"

  "Yes, sir. I promise."

  The ship com blared again. "Docking in four minutes, thirty seconds."

  "Why don't you stay for dinner. We can discuss some strategy for the drop, and you can shuttle back to your ship after."

  "Yes, sir. I'd like that."

  "And I don't think an impromptu inspection stop at the hospital ship would disrupt operations too badly."

  "Yes, general. I'd like that too."

  Chapter 13

  Alliance-PRC Combined Fleet Epsilon Eridani System Inbound from the YZ Ceti warp gate

  A wave of fast attack ships burst into the Epsilon Eridani system. They came in slow and immediately broke their formation, each ship heading out on a pre-set course, scanning for enemy detection buoys. The CAC had not held Epsilon Eridani long enough to construct a proper detection grid at the warp gate, and the screen of scanners they had emplaced was much easier to interdict. The attack ships carried robot probes on external racks and launched them as soon as they'd positioned themselves after transit.

  Immediately after the attack ships, a squadron of cruisers emerged from the gravitational vortex, taking up a defensive position to protect the scouts in case the enemy had stationed forces near the warp gate. The cruisers were PRC vessels attached to the Alliance fleet. The Tokyo-based PRC and the CAC had been mortal enemies during the Unification Wars, and they had taken their enmity into space. The Alliance and the PRC were frequently allied, and almost always when fighting the CAC.

  The warp gate was undefended, however, so the cruiser squadron moved in-system and launched its own probes, extending their scanning range. With no pressing enemy threat, the attack ships completed their search and destroy mission, eliminating all CAC scanner buoys positioned around the warp gate. Their task concluded, they launched two robot drones back to the waiting fleet, giving the all clear to advance into the system.

  Twenty minutes after the drones entered the gate, ships began to transit into the system. The Cambrai was the first to emerge, closely followed by her escorts. The oldest serving capital ship in the Alliance fleet, she'd been damaged at Gliese 250 and barely completed repairs in time to depart with Admiral Garret. Elizabeth Arlington was the captain of the Cambrai, a posting she'd assumed just three days before the Second Battle of Gliese 250. She had only served under Augustus Garret for a short time, and he'd spent most of that harassing her to speed up her repair operation. Nevertheless, she still felt his loss keenly. Her junior officers and crew, who'd been under Garret for longer, were almost catatonic.

  Cambrai had been positioned at the rear of the formation as the fleet made its dash to the TZ Arietis warp gate. When Cromwell's engines were knocked offline, the rest of the fleet, still accelerating, quickly passed it by. Cambrai had been closest when the third barrage of missiles detonated. The rest of the ships had moved well past point defense range, but Cambrai was still close enough to fire at the incoming missiles, though her sole efforts were only sufficient to stop a tithe of them. Cromwell itself had been gutted by the second wave, and there was no fire at all coming from her. Cambrai was still in scanning range when the explosions began. At least five warheads detonated within a kilometer of Cromwell, and when the massive fireballs subsided there was nothing left of the great battleship. Nothing at all.

  She doubted there could have been any survivors, but her people were denied even the futile effort of conducting rescue operations - they were moving away at high velocity and accelerating, and within a few minutes they were beyond even scanning range. She knew intellectually that no one could have lived through the inferno that surrounded Cromwell, but she couldn't shake the feeling that they had abandoned their comrades. A rescue attempt would almost certainly have been fruitless, but it would also have given her people closure.

  Cambrai was the lead battleship on this operation, and Arlington had duties beyond indulging her guilt and uncertainties about the loss of Admiral Garret. She forced back the emotions a
nd doubts and focused on matters at hand. "Carmen, tie the probes into our scanning net and send me a continuous information feed." Arlington had bucked the tiresome trend of naming AIs after naval heroes. As far as she knew, she had the only Carmen in the service.

  "Yes, Captain Arlington. I am processing all incoming data. There are no contacts to report at present." The AI's had user-programmable voice patterns, but Arlington had kept the default setting which, for female officers, was a non-descript, moderately feminine sounding tone.

  "Keep me advised of our fleet status as well." Some commanders relied heavily on their communications officers, choosing to receive information from them rather than directly from the AI. Arlington had a very analytical mind, and she preferred to work through the computer, which gave her somewhat of a reputation as a cold fish among her staff.

  "Yes, Captain Arlington. Saratoga is transiting now." The Saratoga was one of the big new Yorktown class battleships. Admiral Compton had been stationed aboard her, so when Cromwell was lost, and Garret with her, Saratoga became the new flagship. She had been slated to come through later in the progression, but Arlington figured that Compton had wanted to take a look at things for himself.

  They'd expected at least a delaying action at the warp gate, but there was nothing. No enemy presence at all beyond a thin picket of scanner buoys. If the attack ships had gotten all the scanners, the defenders wouldn't even have a good idea of the force composition they'd be facing. It was all a bit odd. But that was Compton's problem; hers was making sure Cambrai was ready for whatever the admiral needed from her. "Carmen, I want a full diagnostic run while the rest of the fleet is transiting. We've got some tape and chewing gum repairs holding things together; let's use the time we've got to make sure everything is 100%." Cambrai would be ready, she would see to that.