“Stronger weapons?” Cain reached out and took the chip into his hand. He looked tense now too. Darius Jax was not easily rattled. He was one of the toughest of the hardcore, and seeing the expression on his face had Cain worried. “Talk to me, Darius.”
“The missiles had three times the acceleration of our best, and they were a hell of a lot more accurate.” Jax looked right at Cain as he spoke. “And the warhead yields were as high as six gigatons.”
Cain leaned back again and let out a long exhale. “Well that’s a problem.” He rubbed his hand along his chin. “Are we sure about this data? We’ve seen our share of scams lately.”
Jax stared grimly across the desk. “General Holm thought about that too, but every authentication checks out.” He paused for an instant before continuing. “Of course it’s still possible that this is some kind of misinformation, but it doesn’t look that way.” His eyes found Cain’s. “We have to assume it’s real until we can prove otherwise. And frankly, Erik, I’m not sure what the hell that means.”
The two sat quietly for a long while before Cain broke the silence. “I guess it means we’ve got some problems, my old friend.” He tried to force a smile, but only managed a brief grin. “It’s bad enough if one of the Powers discovered a backdoor into the Rim. If they did, they can bypass most of our heaviest defenses and come at us through our soft underbelly.” He fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair. “But if they’ve made some sort of major tech breakthrough as well, we’re really in trouble.”
Jax nodded, but didn’t say anything. He just sat quietly and watched as Erik slipped the data chip into a reader. He had just started to play back the transmissions when Hector interrupted the silence.
“General Cain, I have General Holm on the line for you.” Hector had been Cain’s AI since he’d graduated from the Academy as a commissioned officer. The two had a somewhat strained relationship that nevertheless seemed to work fairly well. Hector had received a significant upgrade in his processing systems and databases when Erik had been promoted to general rank, but the AI’s personality remained eccentric.
“Put him on speaker.” Cain looked up from the portable reader he’d been using to view the contents of the data chip. “And lock the door. No one gets in here until I say so. Understood?”
“Yes, general.” The AI’s voice was calm and professional, but Cain could swear there was a hint of sarcasm in there somewhere. “I am quite certain my processing capability of 400 terabits per second enables me to understand a locked door.” Ok, Cain thought, maybe more than a hint.
“Erik, is Jax there yet?” Holm’s voice was clipped, tense.
“Yes, sir.” Cain always got nervous when Holm sounded scared. “You’re on speaker. It’s just Darius and me here. Hector has the room locked down.”
“Did Darius fill you in?”
“Yes, sir. I was just starting to review the transmissions, but I have the gist of the situation.” Cain looked over at Jax, both of them wondering what fresh disaster Holm had to share with them.
The general didn’t waste any time. “We got another transmission from Northstar on commnet.” His voice was grim. “It carried a Delta-Z designation.”
Cain and Jax just sat there, letting Holm’s words sink in. Northstar had escaped the Newton system, and she should have been days ahead of any pursuit…not to mention well out of detection range of the enemy fleet. Holm didn’t have any details yet, but they all knew it wasn’t good.
“I want both of you over here immediately.”
“Yes, sir.” Cain started to get up. “We’re on the way.”
“Good. Holm out.” The transmission terminated abruptly. General Holm had a lot of calls to make.
“I’ve got a transport outside.” Jax gestured toward the door as he hopped out of the chair.
Cain grabbed his jacket off the table and followed Jax. “Hector, open the door.” There was a metal on metal sound as the security bolt slid aside and the hatch opened.
Jax hurried through the door, ducking slightly as he usually did to clear the opening. Cain followed, but stopped abruptly. “Hector, contact Colonel Teller. Tell him to take operational command until I get back.” Cain paused for an instant, thinking. “Tell him I want the division placed on alert. All units are to prepare to ship out immediately.”
If they were at war, there was no time to lose. He took a quick breath and followed Jax through the main workroom and out into the quad.
James Teller got up on the wrong side of the bed. Actually, he’d jumped out of bed so quickly when he got Hector’s message he almost took a header over his boots. The orders were suitably cryptic – take command of the division and put it on wartime alert. No explanation, nothing. Well, he thought, the Marine Corps promised adventure, and so far it had delivered in spades.
He was at HQ now, sitting at one of the workstations in the main room. Hector had opened the C in C’s office for him, but Teller wasn’t about to sit at Erik Cain’s desk, not under any circumstances. Cain had been an idol of his throughout his career and, while he managed to keep the overt hero-worship in check as the dignity of his new position demanded, he still had a healthy respect for anything to do with Cain, and that included the man’s desk.
Colonel Prescott hadn’t arrived on Armstrong yet, so Teller had been looking after the Canadian officer’s brigade as well as his own. Prescott had resigned his commission when the rebellions started and returned to his adopted home on Victoria, with most of the Canadian regiment following his lead. A small colony almost out on the Rim, Victoria had been settled mostly by immigrants from the Canadian provinces of the Alliance. Bolstered by the arrival of so many Marine veterans, the planet was the first to drive the federal forces off-world. By the time of the armistice and Martian-sponsored peace, not a federal soldier or official was left on Victoria, and the planet had established a stable government and planetary army.
Having left the Corps to support revolution, Prescott found himself on uncertain ground with the coming of peace…that is until Major-General Erik Cain sent a communication personally asking Prescott to come back to the Corps and command one of his brigades. He jumped at the chance, gratefully accepting the appointment.
Cain had carefully chosen people he could trust for his key positions. Teller had been under his command for years, and Prescott was a tried and true revolutionary, very unlikely to ever work for Alliance Intelligence. Besides the trust issue, he felt he owed a debt of honor to his new brigade commander. The Canadian Regiment had been one of the units that broke through and relieved Cain’s 1 st Brigade on the Lysandra Plateau during the final battle on Carson’s World. Prescott’s troops, along with Angus Frasier’s Highlanders, had suffered crippling losses during the bitter fighting, but they’d kept up the attack until they linked with Cain’s survivors. It was the decisive moment of the battle…and of the war.
Teller was hunched over a workstation, reviewing orders of battle. The division wasn’t up to strength yet, not even for its current two brigade organization. They were well-supplied, however, and more or less ready for action. Cain’s orders had been to prepare for embarkation, and Teller was determined to see it done in record time.
Preparing an entire division for transport into a combat situation was an almost overwhelming task, especially when a good chunk of the top command was off somewhere, deep in conference. Teller was working with Hector; Cain had instructed his AI to assist in any way possible, and the quasi-sentient computer was obeying enthusiastically for once. “Hector, get me Major Brinn please.”