Marines (22 page)

I started to argue.  "But general, the situation was..."

He held up a hand and stopped me.  "Erik, you are one of the most intelligent soldiers I've ever seen.  Think about it.  You know I'm right.  You indulged yourself on the station.  You assuaged your guilt over the men and women who've died under your command by taking on the most dangerous task yourself.  Believe me, I understand it.  I would have wanted to do it too.  But in the end, you made yourself feel better and jeopardized the mission to do it.  You were in command of the whole operation, not just taking out one gun.  In another place or another time things might have been different, but at that moment, on this station, your life was more important than that of anyone else.  You could have sent a private or corporal down that corridor, and if he or she got killed you could have sent another.  But you had no right to go yourself."

He paused very briefly and continued, "Erik, this is what we do.  We're professionals, all of us.  Making these kinds of decisions, it's our job.  Your troops understand this, but you need to as well.  Don't think that we don't all feel the same way.  The ghosts talk to me too, so I know exactly how you feel.  But you need to deal with it, because it's only going to get worse.  You're one of the most promising young officers I've ever seen, and you've come along at a time when we desperately need good commanders.  You're going to be leading many more troops, Erik, and a lot of them are going to die.  You need to be ready, and you can't feel you need to throw away your life to atone for some imagined sins."

We were both silent for a good while after that.  I nursed my drink and thought about his words.  He was right, I knew he was right.  But it wasn't easy.  It was one thing to ask men and women to follow you into danger, but quite another to say, you and you, go into that death trap while I stay here.  He was also right that I'd have to get past it if I was going to be an effective officer.  They tried to cover this whole topic at the Academy too, but you really couldn't understand it fully until you’d lived it. 

The general was silent.  He knew I needed a minute to think, and he gave it to me.  He took the bottle and filled our glasses and then sat quietly, staring at his cognac but not drinking.

Finally I broke the silence.  "I know you're right, general.  I can't tell you how much I appreciate your taking the time to talk this through with me.  I'm having a hard time dealing with the losses.  We were lucky and had light casualties here, but then the moons campaign was another bloodbath.  Not as rough as Achilles or Columbia, but bad enough.  Lots of empty seats on the shuttle coming back.  I want to thank you for handling this privately and not through disciplinary channels.  And for all the other ways you've helped my career."

He laughed softly.  "Erik, this isn't disciplinary at all, private or otherwise.  You are one of the best marines I've ever seen.  Consider it help with your continuing education and development.  Maybe I'd like to see you sidestep some of the things I learned the hard way.  You're less of a drinker than I am," - he looked at my full glass and laughed again - "but I was less of a drinker myself a few thousand ghosts ago."  He drained his glass.  "But look at it this way.  You've created one hell of a blood and guts reputation for yourself.  I think your troops would raise you up on their shields and declare you emperor!"

We both laughed, and having gotten past the "official business," we sat for a long while and talked about all sorts of things delightfully devoid of military significance.  We even crossed the boundaries somewhat and discussed a bit of our pre-corps pasts, but that was the cognac talking.

I learned a lot about the general that day, not the least of which is that he can drink me under the table.  We polished off that very expensive bottle, which left him still in decent shape and me barely able to stand.  He helped me over to my bunk and pulled off my boots.  On his way out he ordered the AI to shut off the lights.  That was the night I got tucked in by the marine corps’ biggest hero.

So now I was here, reviewing the battalion I would be commanding, shiny new major's pips on my collar.  It was a new unit, and most of the privates were fresh out of training.  But the general had arranged for my old company to be transferred to my new command, so I had some familiar faces.  He'd also given me authority to issue battlefield promotions to non-com positions, so I was able to take a lot of my veteran privates and make them team and squad leaders.  I had a couple I wanted to send to the Academy, and the general approved them all, effective after the campaign.  He didn't want to lose any experienced personnel from the mission, and I agreed completely.

I spent three days reorganizing the battalion.  I tried to get an experienced private in every fire team, but I just didn't have enough.  So I made sure each squad had at least one and that any team without one had a very experienced non-com in charge.  I couldn't commission new lieutenants, but I could put a few veteran sergeants in command of platoons.  I ran it by the general, and he told me to do whatever I thought was best.  He also approved my request to bump Frost and Sanchez to captain and give each a company.  Sanchez took a hit on Dina, but he'd be back to duty before we shipped out.  By the time I finished rearranging things I was pretty happy with the results.  I would have loved another experienced officer or two, but you work with what you've got.

A week before we were set to ship out I got one more surprise, courtesy of General Holm.  I had just finished a final briefing with my platoon commanders and was heading out to the dining hall, when a familiar figure turned the corner and said, "Well if it isn't Major Erik Cain, the war hero."

I couldn't restrain my shocked smile.  "Captain Darius Jax!  How have you been, old friend?"  I walked up to him intending to shake his hand, but somehow it turned into a big bear hug.

He flashed me a broad smile.  "Tried to get myself killed on Alpha Leonis IV, but otherwise pretty fair.  Of course, who can keep up with the legendary Major Erik Cain?"

"That will be quite enough of that, thank you.  Come on, let's head down to the officers' club and get some dinner.  We've got some serious catching up to do."

We hopped on the lift down to the club and worked our way through a couple of dinosaur-sized steaks as we took turns recounting the events of the past three years.  Jax had been badly wounded during the Alpha Leonis campaign and got the pleasure of regenerating an arm, which gave us something to commiserate about.  When he mentioned he was at Armstrong I thought he might have met Sarah, but the medical center was enormous, and their paths hadn't crossed.

The best news, as far as I was concerned, was that Jax was assigned to my battalion.  The general, who had been impressed with both of us on Columbia, had apparently been mentoring his career as he had mine, and he arranged to have Jax transferred to serve under me.  His captain's bars were shiny and new, but I decided right on the spot to make him my battalion executive officer.  He had never commanded a company in the field, so putting him a heartbeat away from battalion command was unorthodox to say the least, but I knew Jax, and I knew that he could handle it.  I knew I could trust him.

After expressing the obligatory concerns about his readiness for the position, he accepted.  We shook on it, and business concluded we spent a long night talking and reminiscing.  Jax and I had fought together in Achilles and on Columbia, two back-to-back bloodbaths, and each of us had been able to count on the other.  It created a real kinship between us that was hard to explain but very real nonetheless.  I have always been a loner, and Jax was close to the only person I would have called a friend.  My personal relationships were few.  Sarah, of course.  And the general, who was rapidly becoming like a father to me.

Getting back to business, I felt a lot better about the battalion.  With Jax, Frost, and Sanchez as three of my captains, and my veteran NCOs from the old company spread around as platoon execs and section leaders, I figured we'd be able to manage just fine, even with the high proportion of green troopers.

The campaign itself was a significant undertaking.  The brigade was going to assault three systems, one after the other, only the second time a strike force had been given multiple targets.  We'd be reinforced and resupplied between attacks, but we were going to hit all three in rapid succession, with very little time between to rest and refit.

As the war grew in scope, central command was planning more in terms of this type of sustained, multi-planet campaign.  We had just completed the first one  - the attacks on Dina and Albera, but they were two moons of the same planet.  This was much vaster in scope, with almost ten times as many troops and three enemy worlds in different systems.

The entire campaign represented something of a doubling down on holding Gliese 250.  We were attacking a group of systems known as "The Tail," a chain of three stars with no lateral warp gates at all, just one in and one out until the last system, which had only the one.  The entire thing was a dead end, with no discovered route in or out except through Gliese.  That made the systems easy for us to defend once we took them.  As long as we held Gliese, the worlds of the Tail would be safe from attack.  Of course, if we lost Gliese and didn't take it right back, the systems and any forces deployed down that dead end were cut off and as good as lost.  They'd fight, of course, but trapped with no hope of resupply or reinforcement they'd stand no chance.  If the enemy took Gliese back while we were still in the middle of the campaign, we'd have a disaster on our hands as bad as Achilles.

With no usable real estate in the system, the battle for Gliese, if and when it came, would be a naval affair.  The little maneuver we'd pulled off to grab the station was only possible because it had been a surprise attack, and there were no Caliphate naval forces posted in the system.  But now the navy had done everything it could to bring force to bear, and if the Caliphate came back they'd have one hell of a fight in space.  And I do mean one hell of a fight.  As long as our invasion force was deployed down the Tail, Gliese would host the biggest concentration of naval force deployed anywhere since Operation Achilles.

We even had an allied PRC task force in-system to bolster our defenses, which was a new level in cooperation between the two powers.  In addition to bringing 8 cruisers and a number of support vessels, the armada delivered Captain Akio Yoshi, an observer and liaison officer who would be coming with us on the campaign.  The general attached him to my battalion, and asked me to make him as comfortable as possible. 

I took the general's charge seriously, and checked and rechecked all the arrangements.  I inquired about his billeting arrangements and found that he'd been assigned VIP quarters, which were quite a bit larger than my own.  I checked them out to make sure everything was ready for his arrival, and I assigned a private to act as his orderly and assistant while we were on the station.    I tried to arrange for one of the officer's clubs to have some Japanese dishes available while he was here, but since we'd only taken the station a few months ago, the supplies were still fairly limited, and they couldn't really accommodate my request.

I had a basic course in Japanese at the Academy, but the language curriculum was one of the things that had given way to the wartime acceleration of the training program, and my resulting ability to stammer a few words did not exactly facilitate communication.  I was as likely to call his mother a rhinoceros as I was to offer a respectful greeting, so I took a portable AI with me when I went to the landing bay just in case his English was no better than my Japanese. 

I could have saved myself the trouble.  After we exchanged our respective salutes he greeted me warmly, in perfect English.  "Major, I am glad to finally meet you.  We in the PRC have heard much about your exploits, and I have been a particular fan.  I am most honored to be your ally, and I sincerely hope one day to be your friend."

He extended his hand, and I grasped it firmly.  "Captain Yoshi, I am very glad to meet you as well, and quite grateful that your English is far better than my Japanese."

He laughed heartily.  "My father was the PRC ambassador to the Alliance for almost ten years.  I grew up in the Georgetown Sector of Washbalt.  No doubt one reason I was assigned to this duty."

"Well that should make things much easier on me.  I'm from New York myself."  I motioned for the orderly to collect the bags.  "You must be exhausted.  Let's get you settled into your billet.  The private will bring your baggage to your quarters immediately."

"I would be most grateful, Major.  And if I may make a request?"

"Certainly, Captain Yoshi, what can I do for you?"

"It’s been a long day, and I’m starving.  Is there anywhere on this station that makes a good burger?"

I started to answer him, but couldn't stifle my laugh.  He looked at me quizzically, so I explained about my misadventures with the officer's club kitchen, and we both laughed again.

"Your efforts were most kind, Major, but you needn't worry.  Ten years on your east coast, remember?  If I can get a good rare burger and a pepperoni pizza with a decent beer to wash it all down I'll be just fine."

We had another laugh, and then we downshifted into small talk as we made our way to the officers' club, where we had two rare burgers that Akio pronounced, "quite excellent considering where we are."

We got along immediately, and while there was very little common ground between his privileged background and my, shall we say, grittier past, it turned out we were very similar in many ways.  We agreed to dispense with the "major" and "captain" stuff, except in front of the troops.

I learned a little more about the liaison program over the next few days, and I thought it was a great idea.  In the past allies tended to operate in overall cooperation, but generally undertook their own separate operations with minimal joint planning.  Combined task forces, like the one taking shape in Gliese 250, were quite rare, and any suggestions at embedding allied liaison officers into active strike forces would have elicited shouts of "espionage!"