Holm leaned back in his chair and smiled. “I’m glad to hear you say that, Erik, because I just reactivated 1 st Division, and I want you to command it.” He paused for a few seconds, enjoying Cain’s shocked expression. “I convinced Cate Gilson to come out of retirement. She’ll be here in a few weeks, and I’m going to have her take over the training program.”
“Sir, General Gilson is senior to me.” Cain had always been a little uncomfortable about the rapidity of his rise through the ranks. Deep down inside him there was still a bit of that green private, fresh from Camp Puller and scared out of his wits. The past 20 years in many ways seemed a surreal blur. “Are you sure she shouldn’t command 1 st Division?”
“I’m sure.” Holm spoke seriously, his voice a model of professionalism. He was very fond of Cain, whom he thought of almost like a son. But that had nothing to do with his decision here, and he didn’t want to give the impression that it did. “You’re the best combat commander I’ve got, Erik, and that’s the bottom line.”
Cain was still uncomfortable, as he usually was when praised, but he nodded his assent. “Thank you, sir. I’ll do my best.” He paused, but when no one else spoke he continued. “Who else do you have earmarked for 1 st Division, sir?”
Holm’s eyes panned across the table. “Well, I was thinking of Jax as your exec.” He had to suppress a smile when he saw the expression on the giant Marine’s face. Jax was another fighter who bristled at pushing papers and wiping recruits’ noses. Darius Jax would follow whatever orders he was given, but in his heart he wanted to be in the line with the combat Marines. “If that’s agreeable to both of you.” Holm really had to force down a smile. With all the shitstorms these two had been in together, he couldn’t think of a better pairing in the whole Corps.
“I’d be happy to watch out for General Cain here, sir.” Jax had a big smile on his face. “At least I won’t have to worry about him shooting a political officer this time.” Before the rebellions, the Alliance government had assigned special officers as watchdogs for the Marine command personnel. The policy was widely disliked throughout the Corps but, as far as anyone knew, Erik Cain was the only one who’d actually come close to shooting his political officer.
Cain looked across the table at Holm. “Thank you, sir. I’m sure General Jax and I can whip the division into shape.”
“You’ll only be able to field two brigades at first.” Holm’s voice was starting to show a little of his frustration at the current shortages. “I just don’t have any more manpower to give you now.” He paused as his eyes shifted to James Teller, who’d been sitting quietly, as the junior officer in the room often did. “You’re probably going to have to put two colonels in charge of the brigades. I was thinking about James here for one.”
James Teller had served under Cain for years, and he’d been an officer in the special action teams Erik set up during the war. Erik looked at Holm. “That will be just fine, sir.” Then, turning to face Teller: “Welcome to 1 st Division, James. Or should I say back to 1 st Division, since we’re all just going home, really.”
“Thank you, sir.” Teller was facing Cain, but then his eyes moved to Holm. “And you too, General Holm. I appreciate the chance.” Teller was a decorated Marine veteran with a long list of battle honors, but he’d been a captain until a couple years earlier. He was a little overwhelmed when Cain and Holm gave him his eagles, and now he was moving into a brigadier’s posting. A brigade command was one hell of a jump from running a company, which had been his most recent combat posting. But after everything that had happened with General Samuels and the rebellions, Holm’s primary concern was putting people he absolutely trusted into the important commands. He hated to think that way about the Corps, but he had no choice. That was Samuels’ legacy.
“We have a lot of challenges ahead, and it’s going to be quite a while before we can get the Corps back to its old strength and effectiveness.” Holm spoke decisively but soothingly. All his people, even the veterans, were a still a little shaken by recent events. They were seasoned combat Marines, but with the rebellions and the situation with Samuels, they’d had to deal with a level of confusion and ambiguity about loyalties that hadn’t existed before. “If it helps at all, Admiral Garret is having an even tougher time with the navy.” Garret had been compelled to hunt down and destroy almost half of his wartime hulls after they’d been appropriated by a new Directorate naval force. The fleet was down to barely a third of its former strength and struggling hard to meet its responsibilities.
“As I said, it’s going to be a while before we have our old Corps back. Fortunately, it’s likely we will have that time. The Confederation Agreement is flawed; there is no doubt of that. But neither Alliance Gov nor the colonies are in a position to resume hostilities, especially with the Martians guaranteeing the peace.” Holm leaned back in his chair, stretching his aching back the best he could manage while seated. A lifetime of war wounds left their mark despite the best medical care available, and Elias Holm suffered from his share of chronic pain.
“The Superpowers are still rebuilding from the Third Frontier War. The Caliphate, in particular, was very badly hurt. No one is looking for a new fight, at least not for some years.” Holm grinned as he looked across the table. “It finally looks like we’ll get a protracted peace.” His smile broadened as he spoke. “Yes, for once it looks like we’ll have a good long time before we have to take the field again.”
Chapter 2
“I’m telling you, these conduits go all the way down to the planet’s core. How many more levels do we need to discover before you will accept the true scope of this installation?” Friedrich Hofstader stared at his companions, the exasperation in his voice clear. For months, the chief of the CEL’s research contingent had been urging the Committee to authorize deeper digging. But no matter what he said, they kept dragging their feet, debating endlessly about every acceleration of the research effort.
“Dr. Hofstader, I understand your scientific curiosity and the resulting impatience, but it is important to stress that we must maintain a cautious approach.” Ivan Norgov was the head of the Russian research team and the elected chairman of the International Committee created to manage the scientific efforts on Epsilon Eridani IV. “It is essential that we follow proper research procedure and thoroughly document our findings at each step.”
Hofstader suppressed a sigh. He was already the odd man out, and he was trying not to further antagonize his colleagues. It wasn’t easy, especially since he couldn’t think of Norgov as anything but an officious asshole. “Gentlemen, I understand the research protocols, but have any of you considered the fact that someone built this?” Hofstader had always favored action, and he had bristled for years when colleagues at the Institute in Neu-Brandenburg endlessly debated protocols and process. Academics will never change, he thought with considerable irritation. But Epsilon Eridani IV was an unprecedented research opportunity, and he couldn’t reconcile with anyone stunting progress here with endless bureaucracy.
Norgov gave him an annoyed stare, but it was Adam Crandall, the chief physicist from the Alliance team, who spoke first. “I presume there is more to your point than the obvious fact that this is not a naturally-occurring structure?” Crandall was another pompous fool, mired down in intellectual pretensions, but even Hofstader had to admit the Alliance scientist was brilliant. He was responsible for most of the foundational work on explaining the warp gates and how they functioned.