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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.