Jay Allan - Marines

He paused for a few moments, as if he was searching for the right words to express his thoughts. "Erik, I'm afraid we're going to have much more of a fight than anyone expects on this campaign. I'm going to need my most dependable, gifted officers to be at their best. I'm counting on you, and I want you to tell me immediately if you have any concerns or misgivings. I need your instincts on this one. If you have a bad dream about the enemy, I want you to tell me about it."

I hesitated, not sure I should really speak my mind. But this man deserved my honesty. "I agree with your misgivings, sir. I think we're going into a hornet's nest, and I'm afraid the scope of the campaign is far too broad. I don't see us taking all the objectives, not without massive reinforcements. And I don't see where those will come from."

I stopped for a minute again, really not sure I wanted to say everything that was on my mind. "General, I keep thinking what I would have done with those worlds if I was in command for the enemy, with all those years to ship in heavy weapons and build fortifications. All that time to put to use the lessons we've learned in this war. I wondered for a while why you accepted the scope of this operation. I couldn't believe you were bullied into it, and it took me some time, but I think I figured it out."

He looked up at me and gazed right into my eyes. "And what did you come up with?"

"That as difficult as this campaign will be, not doing it would be morally indefensible. Those are our people out there. We couldn't defend them the first time, and to leave them there when we can credibly try to free them is not an option you could live with. Or one I could."

We were both silent a few seconds, then I added, "Of course, if the enemy was just occupying Washbalt instead, I'd be fine with it."

He tried to hold the laugh in, but it burst its way out anyway. "Now, now, major, you are expressing less than appropriate respect for our honest, hardworking politicians."

The laughing broke the tension for a minute, but there was something else on the general's mind too, and I knew what it was.

"You're also worried about the South Americans, aren't you?" I'd been thinking about it too.

"You bet I am, he replied. "My gut tells me they're going to jump into this storm. Think about it. They're not blind. This war has been a huge escalation of the action in space. How long can they sit there with no open warp gates and let the rest of us grow? They've got to do something, and the cold hard fact is the systems they can steal from us are worth a lot more to them than anything they can snatch from the Caliphate or CAC. And if they come in, I'm willing to bet it will be a surprise, and our vaunted diplomats and intelligence services will be caught flat-footed."

"And with Sherman and the Gliese 250 defense force draining all our resources," I said, "we're weak everywhere else."

"Bingo. You are right on target. Even if I knew for a fact they were going to attack, I'm still not sure what I would do to meet it. We just can't let our occupied systems languish under enemy control any longer without trying to liberate them, and we don't have any strength to spare. We're mobilized to the max already, and the navy is stretched thinner than we are. Even if Sherman is a success, it may bleed us badly and leave us weak and unable to meet a new threat. It could be the beginning of the war all over again."

He was right. But there was nothing we could do differently than we were doing anyway. Honestly, he was a man who shouldered every burden himself, and I think he just needed to talk about this. I thought after all he'd done the least he deserved was a little reassurance.

"General, there's no sense going around in circles. Sherman has to go forward, and there's nothing else we can do that we haven't done. So let's focus on making this a successful op and also keep our eyes open. If we have to change plans or redeploy to meet another threat, we'll do whatever is necessary. We always do."

He smiled appreciatively, and threw be an informal salute. "Welcome to I Corps, major. Operation Sherman will be commencing in nine days, so I'll let you go get settled into your billet. I'm sure you'll want all that time to work with your regiment. Rearrange things however you see fit. Any promotions, transfers - whatever - just let me know and I'll approve them."

He stood up and snapped me a much sharper salute, which I returned just as crisply. Then he extended his hand and we shook before he walked me out. He ordered one of the aides in the outer room to show me to my quarters. The lieutenant jumped to attention and asked me to follow him. We walked outside and got into a waiting transport, and he drove me across the camp to the 3rd regiment's section. The regimental camp was divided into two wings, one for each battalion, with a central area for regimental assets and the command section. We drove up to a large shelter in the center of the command area.

"These are your quarters, Major Cain," said the aide, whose name I hadn't even thought to read off of the plate on his chest. God, I really was getting used to the thinner air at this pay grade, wasn't I?. "I will have your kit delivered here immediately, and I will see that your command staff is aware that you have arrived. Is there anything else I can do for you, sir?"

"Uh, no. That will be all." I was still getting used to the obsequious servitude from junior officers. I rallied, though, and gave him my best major's attitude. "Dismissed."

I walked inside and took a look around. I had a suite with sleeping and living areas, and an adjoining office with conference room. I was just about to see how hot I could get the shower when the AI announced that my orderly officer was at the door requesting to see me.

I was just about to tell the AI to ask him…her? - I didn't even know yet - to come back in an hour, but I decided to make time. I walked over to the desk and said, "Open."

The door slid open and a tall, dark-haired woman in a meticulous uniform walked into the room and gave me a very respectable salute. "Lieutenant Anne Delacorte reporting, sir. I have been assigned as your orderly."

I returned the salute - this was getting tedious - and motioned for her to take a seat. "Thank-you, Lieutenant. I am pleased to meet you."

We exchanged a few minutes of respectful pleasantries, very respectful on her part, and then got right into 45 minutes of deep discussion of how I wanted things run, what kind of schedule I kept, even what I liked for breakfast. She seemed like an intelligent and earnest young officer, eager to do her job well.

Finally, I cut things off and said we'd get through the rest of it later. I told her to round up my executive officer, Jax, and the other battalion commander, and have them report to me. In an hour. I was going to get that hot shower first.

On the way out I started to ask her to round up a couple sandwiches, but then I said, "Lieutenant, I'll want dinner for myself and the other officers. Ninety minutes from now."

She acknowledged and raced off to tend to it all, while I used up half of Columbia's hot water. Forty minutes later I was sitting behind my desk in a fresh uniform feeling a little more human. I browsed some of the dossiers on my workstation screen. Lieutenant Delacorte had uploaded the files of all of the personnel in the regiment. I didn't need to read Jax's file, I'd probably written half of it. There wasn't an officer I trusted more to get up to speed quickly.

My exec was Major Lis Cherzny, who actually had ten years longer service than I did. She'd been stuck in garrison duty for most of the war, so she never got the chance to show what she could do. After uneventful years as a lieutenant and more as a captain, she led a company in the Tail campaign and a battalion on the Outer Rim, winning the rapid advancement that had eluded her before.