“What the hell is going on out there?” Merrick was angry, venting at his staff more than looking for an answer. He was getting nothing but excuses and doubletalk, and he was sick of it. One thing he knew; he was losing troops – the casualty lists were getting long. After the initial difficulties in securing the city of Arcadia things had gone fairly well for a few weeks. He’d sent columns throughout the entire district, rounding up suspected rebels and asserting control of the area 50 klicks out from the city. But now his forces were encountering much heavier resistance, well-equipped troops that were more than a match for his own. The district, which had been nearly pacified, was now in open revolt, and even in the city there had been attacks against his troops and supply depots.
“Sir, we need to move against these rebels in force, and we have to do it soon.” Major Jarrod was the lowest-ranking officer present; in the Alliance army that was someone who usually stayed quiet while the superior officers debated. In an extremely hierarchal service that hadn’t fought a war in a hundred years, it was more important to avoid offending anyone with more influence than you. It was a far likelier path to success than speaking up, even if you were right.
Merrick, however, was a cut above the average Alliance army general, and he knew Jarrod was one of his best officers. “Please elaborate, major.” Merrick’s indulgence of Jarrod caused a few raised eyebrows in the room, but no one would dare interrupt after the commanding general had spoken.
“Sir, we need to…” - Jarrod nervously noticed the expressions of the other officers at his presumption - “…excuse me, it is my belief that it would be beneficial to launch an offensive with significant strength and bring this rebel force to battle so it can be destroyed before it grows larger and bolder.”
Most of the senior officers were ignoring Jarrod, but he had Merrick’s attention. “How do you define significant, major?” Merrick was staring right at the younger officer, looking him directly in the eye.
“Sir, if it was my decision, I’d mobilize the entire division.” He paused for an instant. “Minus a garrison for the city, of course.”
Most of the officers laughed and snorted derisively at Jarrod’s suggestion, but Merrick was impassive, still looking at the major and listening intently to what he had to say.
Jarrod took a deep breath and continued. “Sir, we have to stop thinking about these rebels as some ragtag force we can mop up at will. There are a lot of Marine veterans in their ranks, and they have far more combat experience than our troops. The rest of them may be townspeople and farmers, but they believe they are fighting for a cause, and that alone makes them formidable.” Jarrod took another breath; he’d gone much further down this road than he’d intended. “We need to crush them and do it quickly, or they will gain strength from all over the planet.”
Merrick paused a moment to consider Jarrod’s words, but before he could speak, Brigadier Quinn interjected his own comments. “That is absurd.” His tone was arrogant, dripping with derision and contempt – whether that was for the colonists, him, or both, Jarrod couldn’t tell. “The very idea that colonial rabble can stand up to Alliance regulars is not only foolish, it is insulting.”
You are a pompous ass, Merrick thought looking over at Quinn…especially since your brigade has fared worst of all at the hands of the “colonial rabble.” Merrick thought it, but he didn’t say it. Despite the fact that Quinn was a damned fool and everyone knew it, his connections were top of the line, and that’s all that really counted in the Alliance. You didn’t advance your career arguing with a Senator’s son, even when you outranked him, and Quinn was just in the army biding time until his father retired and passed on his Seat.
“With all due respect, General Quinn…” - Merrick didn’t think much respect was due, but there was no point in making political enemies of powerful colleagues - “…whether it is numbers, familiarity with the terrain, help from the locals…whatever…this rebel army has enjoyed considerable success against our isolated forces.” He paused, considering how to proceed. He hated having to parse his words and play diplomat in his own headquarters, but that was the way the Alliance was run. “While I of course concur with you regarding the combat capabilities of the rebels compared to our own troops, I see no harm in launching a large scale operation.” He paused, waiting to see if Quinn was going to argue with him, but for once the arrogant fool was just listening. “A little overkill won’t hurt us, and we can end this quickly rather than allowing it to drag on in a series of small actions.”
Quinn was silent, looking at Merrick as he spoke. He almost interrupted, but he didn’t, just nodding instead. Arrogant as Quinn was, Merrick was his military superior, and nothing he said was out of line. Nothing like that upstart Jarrod.
“I hardly think the full division is needed, however. In fact, General Quinn…” - Now’s the time, Merrick thought; put it to him – “…I think a brigade-sized operation would be sufficient.” He paused, looking right at his troublesome subordinate. “Do you think your people can be ready to execute in one week?”
Quinn was on the spot, and he squirmed a bit. For all his bluster, he was unnerved by how effectively the rebels had fought his troops…and since he’d had some rebel prisoners executed, the enemy had kicked up the ferocity level. The troops in his brigade were shaken. They’d expected to clear out the equivalent of some armed Cogs; now they were facing well-armed and led troops. But there was no way to back down, not in front of everybody. “Of course, general. We would be honored.”
Merrick smiled. “Thank you, General Quinn. There is no one I’d feel more comfortable entrusting this operation to…no one.”
Quinn snapped Merrick a salute. “Then with your permission, general, I will go and start preparing the brigade.” He was trying to keep a poker face, but Merrick enjoyed the look of fear in his eyes.
“Of course, General Quinn.” Merrick watched Quinn skulk out the door, and his smile grew. If you only knew you were the bait in this operation, he thought, with far too much satisfaction.
Chapter 10
The crowd had been gathering all morning. No announcement had been made, but everyone seemed to know something was happening. Word of the confrontation at the armory had spread virally. Now there were rumors everywhere. It was the middle of a workday, but offices and places of business sat virtually empty as the people of Weston flocked into the streets.
The central core of the city was small, perhaps fifty large buildings, all clustered around Founder’s Square. The Square was a park, marking the spot where the first colonists had established a temporary settlement. In the center stood a large chunk of twisted plasti-steel, a section of the Star of Hope, the ship that brought the first 200 colonists to the planet almost a century before. The old colony ships were disposables, built for one-way trips. Landing a ship that big in an atmosphere was a rough ride, leaving a vessel useful for shelter and spare parts, but not for future liftoffs.
Now the pleasantly landscaped square was full of armed soldiers, and speakers had been set up throughout the park and the adjoining business district. The troops wore the brown uniforms of Federal Police, but they were heavily armed and clad in hyperkev body armor. They had cordoned off the central area of the park, allowing no one to enter, though the growing crowds were starting to push up against the barricades.