'It's not that, Anna. I just wish I knew this would all work out.'
'It will.'
Michael shook his head. 'You don't know that, Anna. Nobody does. I'm beginning to think that we'll still be here in ten years wondering if we'll ever get home, if any of the Feds here because of me ever will get home.'
'Is that so bad? You and me. We'll be together.'
Michael snorted. 'You know the life expectancy of an NRA trooper?'
'No, Michael,' Anna said, 'and I bloody well don't want to. What's done is done. Stop beating yourself to death. Hey'-her voice softened-'I'll be careful, I promise. No stupid risks. I'll see you in two weeks' time when the battalion's pulled back for training, okay?'
'Okay.'
Anna lifted her face to his and kissed him long and hard, and Michael's world folded into the moment, an instant of intense intimacy, an instant in which the two of them became the entire universe.
Anna pulled away. 'Love you,' she whispered. She turned and without a backward look climbed into the sled.
'Love you, too,' Michael replied.
He watched the sled accelerate; banking to one side, it disappeared into the tunnel, the soft squealing of its wheels fading as it raced away, swallowed by the darkness.
Back at his desk, Michael killed time until Adrissa's daily brief-called, in time-honored tradition, morning prayers-kicked off, the cramped conference room dominated by a single holovid screen filling with her staff and any Feds who might happen to be passing through. As he sat down, tucked away at the back, Sedova and Acharya walked in. Michael waved them over.
'Was wondering when I'd see you guys again.'
Sedova grimaced. 'You're one to talk. I've been through ENCOMM's after-action report on Tappet. You were lucky. Landers and Alaric air-to-air missiles are a bad combination.'
'Don't we know it,' Acharya added. 'Bastard Hammers nearly nailed us last week. As it was, we only just outran their attack. Still, pity about poor old Widowmaker.'
'Yeah,' Michael said. 'We were in the wrong place at the wrong time. It happens. I was sorry to lose Widowmaker. She was a good ship. And it's a… oh, hold on. Looks like we're starting. You guys staying around?'
'Yep,' Sedova said. 'Coffee later?'
'Sure.'
Michael settled down while Adrissa started the proceedings before handing over to her intelligence officer, a young lieutenant Michael did not know. Mitchell Davies was his name, one of the few spacers to make it off the dying al-Badisi, a stringy beanpole of a man with a shock of thick black hair and intense eyes.
'Good morning everyone,' Davies said. 'ENCOMM's full intelligence summary as of 06:00 is available for download, so I won't waste time repeating it. There is, however, one thing that needs highlighting. You all know that there has been a significant reduction in the tempo of Hammer operations all across the northern front, and NRA sources inside DocSec confirm that their operations have been cut back also. I think we were all looking forward to a period of quiet.
'Well, ENCOMM thinks it now knows why the Hammers have cut back on operations. If you look at the holovid, you will see a summary of Hammer activity over the last week. Here is Amokran marine base to the northeast of us. It's home to the Hammer's MARFOR 6 plus a raft of logistics, maintenance, and support units. Amokran is crowded at the best of times, and as you can see, it's getting more so. NRA sources have reported the arrival of MARFOR 8's forward elements from Yamaichi. Sources there say the rest will follow over the next two weeks. That means there will be three full-size marine forces-MARFORs 6, 8, and 11-less than a thousand klicks from where we sit by year's end.'
A buzz of concern rippled through the room.
'ENCOMM believes,' the intelligence officer continued, 'the reason for all this activity is that we will be facing a marine operation against the Branxtons some time early next year, a large one. The NRA's highest intelligence priority is finding out what those Hammers' plans are. More details as and when they come to hand. ENCOMM's hoping DocSec's security will be its usual leak-prone self, enough to give us plenty of warning. Captain?'
While Adrissa made her way to the lectern, Michael checked the math; his heart sank. If the Hammers deployed three marine forces, that meant an attacking force at least one hundred thousand strong, maybe more if the marines forgave the PGDF for the Perdan disaster and allowed them to join the party. Either way, with or without planetary defense forces participating, it was an ugly prospect.
Adrissa looked around the room before speaking. 'I'm sure,' she said, 'I don't have to tell you that a marine group attack on the Branxtons will be a major problem. ENCOMM has established an operational planning group to draw up the NRA's response; they're calling it Operation Counterweight. Its first session will be later today. Some of you will be tasked to take part, and I'll let you know who you are once this briefing's over. Turning to other matters. Manufacturing. I see that there has been a problem with…'
Mugs of scalding hot coffee in hand, Michael sat with Sedova and Acharya in an alcove well clear of any senior officers roaming around looking for underemployed spacers to dump crappy little jobs onto.
'Can't say that's the best news of the year,' Sedova said, her face twisting into a despondent frown; Michael did not blame her. His sprits were at rock bottom, too.
'Something tells me we will be busy,' Acharya said with a glum frown.
Michael nodded. 'Think so, though quite what two heavy landers can achieve against a full marine battle group, I'm not sure.'
Sedova laughed, a bitter, cynical laugh. 'The usual,' she said. 'A lot, but never enough.'
'Hey, Kat,' Michael said. 'Let's not get too miserable. The Hammers have tried this twice before, and both times the NRA kicked their asses back where they came from.'
'I know that, and you're right,' Sedova said. 'Problem was that it cost the NRA dearly. Worse, it set back offensive operations for months. We all want this war to end, and there's only one way that'll happen: We have to take McNair. The NRA must defend the Branxtons, they have no choice, but let's not kid ourselves. Every day, every trooper, every bullet, every bomb they use to secure these caves is one less the NRA can use to take McNair.'
There was a long and gloomy silence. Michael could not fault Sedova's analysis; in a few words, she had summed up the problem. The NRA could conduct the offensive operations needed to open the road to McNair and final victory or it could defend the Branxtons.
It could not do both.
'Let's see what ENCOMM comes up with,' he said. 'Anyway, changing the subject, your ships. How are they holding up?'
Acharya's face brightened; there was a man, Michael realized, who loved his job. 'Chief Chua and his manufacturing teams are the closest thing to miracle workers I've ever seen,' he said. 'Now that the microfabs are getting the raw materials they need, we're beginning to get the spares we've been waiting for. So okay, to answer your question. Hell Bent's in good shape.'
'Alley Kat's the same,' Sedova said. 'It's one hell of a shame that dreadnoughts didn't carry a macrofab. We need a squadron or two of new landers. Very handy.'
'A macrofab?' Michael said. 'A macrofab capable of turning out a heavy lander? Those things weigh, what, 10 kilo-tons? Would have been a tight squeeze getting one of them into poor old Redwood.'
'Never mind that,' Acharya said. 'What about the fusion plant to drive it? Huge!' he said, spreading his arms wide.
Sedova lifted her hands in mock defeat. 'Yeah, yeah, I know. Wishful thinking. I asked Chief Chua if we could build another lander from microfab-produced spare parts. He said it was the dumbest question he'd ever been asked. Cost me a beer, and you know how hard beer is to come by, so it-'
Michael and Acharya laughed.
'-cost me an absolute fortune. Anyway, spares aren't the problem. Ordnance is. We're out of decoys, we have no missiles or attack drones left, so we are down to anything we can get from the Hammers: iron bombs, clusterbots, and cannons… when the NRA is able to steal them for us. They're good at it, but supplies are tight,' she added.
'Microfabs can't help?' Michael asked.
