Travers nodded. “Have you sent for everyone you need?”
Hofstader nodded. “Yes, Mr. Vance was kind enough to lend me one of his Torch transports. They should be here shortly, hopefully within a week.” Hofstader had put together a list of scientists…his choices, not the selections of political cronies. He’d always hated the political games that suffocated academia, and his feelings were only compounded when he saw Garret and Holm and their people in action. For the first time he saw what could be achieved by the best people working together with no agenda but success. He was going to emulate that on Carson’s World. He had to. For all the effort and courage of the troops fighting the war, Hofstader knew in his gut they didn’t stand a chance. Not unless he could unlock some of this technology.
Chapter 26
Cain sat quietly, nursing a headache and paging through the OB for I Corps. He had some first class troops under his command; that much he knew for sure. But it was a ramshackle organization, thrown together from whatever forces could be assembled.
He had half of 1 st Division, mostly 2 nd Brigade plus some of the support units. The rest of the division had fought under Teller on Cornwall. Most of them were dead, and the rest were regrouping on Armstrong. Cain suspected it would be a considerable time before the brigade would be combat ready again, if ever. Fighting this enemy seemed to affect even veteran Marines in a way he’d never seen before. The engaged units had suffered a considerable amount of psychological distress and battle fatigue among the survivors.
Cain himself had recruited 2d Brigade’s CO back into the service. James Prescott had been drawn deeply into the rebellion on his adopted world of Victoria, something he’d thought marked the end of his Marine career. But the Corps ultimately declared for the rebels, and when General Cain offered the Canadian officer a pair of eagles and the command of one of his brigades, he gratefully accepted.
Jax was Prescott’s immediate superior, which worked out well. Both Cain and Jax trusted Prescott to work without a lot of supervision, and that freed up Jax’s time. The big Marine was wearing two hats, commanding 1 st Division and serving as I Corps’ XO. Darius Jax was Cain’s oldest and closest friend. The two had been through hell and back together…several times. For the first time in a very long time, Erik felt he needed someone to lean on, to back him up and help him get through the fight that was coming. For him, that was Jax.
I Corps had half of 2 nd Division as well. Erik had first met Angus Frasier on Carson’s World, when the stubborn Scot drove his regiment of Highlanders through the enemy lines to relieve Cain’s 1 st Brigade on the blood-soaked Lysandra Plateau. When General Holm asked Cain his opinion on a commander for 2 nd Division, Cain gave him one name…Frasier’s.
Frasier’s force was a mixed bag. Units like the reformed Highland Regiment were crack troops by anyone’s measure, but the division had a significant number of green formations as well. They’d left the completely raw 4 th Brigade on Armstrong to continue training under General Gilson, but there had been no way to field even a single brigade without including some inexperienced personnel.
Erik had a few unfamiliar units rounding out I Corps. Linus Wagner’s regiment of Martian Marines had landed the week before, courtesy of Roderick Vance. Cain had never seen the Confeds in action, but he knew they were elite troops…and the Martian weapons and equipment were second to none.
He had less welcome reinforcements too. Tac-commander Farooq and his Janissaries had arrived two weeks earlier. Erik understood what was at stake, and he knew the Alliance couldn’t hope to win this war alone…but that didn’t make it any easier for him to accept his old enemies as friends. Farooq had been courteous and respectful, and he’d placed himself unreservedly under Cain’s command. But Erik still didn’t like it. Working with the Janissaries felt wrong…somehow disloyal to the thousands of his men and women who’d died at their hands. And he didn’t care how much talk there was about joining forces and facing the common enemy – he just didn’t trust them.
“So has the glory of corps command gone to your head yet?” Jax was smiling as he walked up from behind. “Could you have imagined back on Columbia that you’d be wearing General Holm’s hat one day?”
Cain turned to face his friend and second-in-command. “I wish we had that outfit now.” Holm had been the commander of I Corps during the closing stages of the Third Frontier War. It had been a veteran formation through and through, honed during years of combat. Cain’s corps had its share of seasoned troops, but it wasn’t a match in numbers or experience for the formation Holm had commanded. The force reductions after the war and the savagery of the rebellions had taken a serious toll. Erik wondered how many Marines from the old I Corps were still with the colors…how many were still alive. He figured it wouldn’t be hard to find out – Hector could probably tell him immediately. But he decided he didn’t want to know. His own mental calculations told him the number would be depressingly small.
“We’ve still got some good people, Erik.” He looked out over the sea of modular structures that stretched for kilometers in every direction. A lot of them were empty. Admiral West had been fighting the enemy invasion fleet for days now, and I Corps’ frontline units had suited up and deployed to their defensive positions. Cain knew the enemy landings could come at any time, and he wasn’t going to get caught unprepared.
“That we do, my friend.” He looked up at Jax, squinting at the bright sun above the big Marine’s head. “But not enough. Have the PRC troops disembarked yet?”
“Yes, they’re mustering in the quad.” Jax walked the rest of the way over to Cain and sat in one of the empty chairs. “We’re loading up the civvies now. That will be just about all of them, except for the volunteers. I can’t believe we got them all off-planet.”
“This group will be lucky if they can make it out of the system.” Third Fleet had done a tremendous job fencing with the superior enemy forces, but West’s survivors weren’t going to hold out much longer. Cain had been waiting for word that the enemy had taken out the remnants of the orbital fortresses and commenced their landing. The transport crews were trying to get the civilians loaded up, but they were as likely to get blown away in space as to escape.
“I do have one surprise for you, though.” Jax’s smile widened.
“I hate surprises.” Cain frowned. “They’re usually trouble.” He looked over at Jax, his head tilted to avoid the sun glare. “What is it?”
“It, my dear General Cain, is me.”
Cain spun around. Standing behind him was an Asian man of moderate height, fully armored with his helmet retracted.
“Aoki!” Cain smiled, for the first time in days. “I had no idea you were leading this force.” He got up and walked over to the new arrival. “Welcome to I Corps.”
“Thank you, my friend.” Aoki Yoshi had been the PRC’s liaison officer during the war, and he’d accompanied then-Major Cain’s forces for a full campaign. The two had stayed in touch, but Cain hadn’t actually seen Yoshi in years. “It is good to see you again.”
“Why don’t you head over to your billet and dump that armor and come back here for dinner?” Cain glanced back at Jax. “Our food service leaves a bit to be desired, but I’d wager Jax and I can pull rank and scare up a few burgers and cold beers.” Yoshi was the son of a diplomat, and he’d spent most of his childhood in the Alliance. While he was there he’d become fond of the food, particularly hamburgers.
“That sounds perfect.” He nodded and started to turn. “Give me an hour to get my troops situated.”