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“I don’t eat Pigeon on a Stick.” Sevin walked faster. Suddenly he sneezed and his nose ran as though a water faucet had been turned on inside his head. As he walked he leaned to his side and pinched his nose with his hand and then blew his nose into the air at his side. His hand drew away a foot-long string of clear snot and he flung it out to land on the ground a half meter away. A few strides later, Sevin stopped and half-vomited to leave another gob of clear, runny mucus from his stomach in a puddle nearly a foot in diameter.

Galen tried to ignore the appalling display but couldn’t. “Are you sick?”

“No, I just can’t stand that smell.”

“You must be allergic to the chicken or the seasoning or the oil they use to deep-fry.”

Sevin wiped his eyes with the backs of his hands and then winked at Galen with a swollen, red eye. “No, if I were allergic to anything like that I wouldn’t be medically fit for military service. That can’t be it. It must be combat stress.”

“Must be the stress.” Galen opened the door to the TOC for Sevin and then followed him in. Sevin walked quickly through the operations room and entered the Major’s office and closed the door. Galen didn’t enter the Major’s office but instead sat in the command chair and faced the main screen on the opposite wall and stared without looking. It showed the Mosh battle group holding its same formation.

Galen decided to show the fleet guy a little more respect. “Hey, Master Chief.”

“Yeah?”

“What could we do that would annoy the Mosh fleet the most?”

The Master Chief thought for a while and then said, “Get rid of those two scout ships.”

Galen pretended to understand and counted to ten inside his head to make the Master Chief think he was thinking. “Okay. How could we accomplish that?”

“Give them something to scout after and then when they’re away from their fleet, ambush them. Maybe set up a couple of rail guns where the Mosh fleet can’t see them through the rings, then send up a single interceptor to lure the scout ships into chasing it and lead them right into the rail guns.”

Galen nodded knowingly, but didn’t really know. He had to ask a question to get more information but didn’t want to sound stupid. “Ah, but why use rail guns instead of lasers?”

The Master Chief looked annoyed. “Their shields absorb energy weapons but projectiles go right through to the hull. Scout ships have thinner hulls to reduce their mass. Our rail guns can punch holes in them. You want me to get a plan through to my commander?”

“Yes. Get it worked up and then we’ll run it by the Major.”

“Roger, Sergeant Major.” The Master Chief turned to his terminal and typed for a couple of minutes and then turned to Galen. “It’s in and I sent it to the Major. We just need a four hour heads-up when you decide you want it done.”

“You’re all right, fleet guy.”

“You too, Smaj.”

Galen got up to knock on the Major’s office door. The Major said, “Come in, have a seat.”

Major Ross and Master Sergeant Sevin were seated comfortably and leaned back in their chairs. Galen sat on the couch facing the Major’s desk.

The Major said, “I didn’t know you had it in you, but I like this plan you sent me. Tell the Master Chief to go ahead and get it done.”

Galen got up and went back out to the command chair to enter command approval for the attack and gave the fleet Master Chief a thumbs-up gesture. Then he went back into the Major’s office and sat back down.

The Major cleared his throat. “We have another problem. Colonel Theil is coming to visit and will be here in two days, which happens to be the same day the second Mosh battle group will arrive.”

Sevin’s seat squeaked as he leaned forward slowly. “We need to get rid of that first group before then.”

Galen said, “Why? I’d assume Colonel Theil will come with some reinforcement.”

Sevin and Major Ross looked at one another and laughed. Finally the Major looked at Galen and said, “He’s coming in a single drop ship, and other than his command tank and its crew, he’ll have no reinforcement for us. I think he plans to pay off the Mosh to leave us alone.”

Galen stared at the Major and then at Master Sergeant Sevin. “What?”

Sevin spoke, “The Colonel’s getting ready to fold up shop and retire. This was his last big contract and he hasn’t been getting very high bids for this unit. An under-funded pension plan, long-term contractual obligations to the Mandarins, short-term debt he can’t roll over into long-term debt because of his age, a mediocre unit reputation…”

The Major interrupted, “It would take five years and an ambitious young commander to turn this unit around, a real aggressive risk-taker who doesn’t mind getting blood on his hands. The Colonel is done. He poured his very soul into this unit and now he’s all used up.”

Galen stood. “I see. Kind of jerks a knot in my career plans. Okay, we definitely need to get rid of that first group before he arrives.”

Sevin cracked his knuckles as he stood. “Let’s see how things go with those scout ships before we plan too far ahead.”

Major Ross stood. “Okay. That should be happening in about four hours. Until then, I’m off to get some chow.”

Galen left the office and sat in the command chair in the conference room. Sevin sat at the Aerospace command terminal and dismissed the technician who had been there. The main screen on the opposite wall showed the derelict Mosh destroyer. It had drifted slightly and the light of the planet’s rings no longer showed through the hundreds of holes burned through it’s hull by the laser cannons. The fleet commander entered and sat at his command terminal and Galen noticed that the Public Affairs and the Infantry Captains were also at their posts.

“Did I miss something?”

The fleet commander swiveled his chair. “The Major wants here. Us, and our seconds in command, to rotate on twelve hour shifts.”

Galen looked at Sevin. “Why?”

“Because,” said Sevin, “The Colonel is coming.”

Galen kept quiet. He knew that if he were in command things would be different. He’d keep the commanders out with their units and give them leeway to make decisions.

“How’s that plan for the enemy scout ships coming?”

The Commander in fleet uniform stood to his full height of two meters and ran his left hand across his scalp from front to back, brushing the thick grey hair that stood back up in a bristly flattop haircut. Placing his hands behind his back he said, “Well, it’s coming along nicely. A boat has launched to place two fully charged rail guns on a larger clump of ring material and the Interceptor pilot is rehearsing in the simulator and should be taking off within the hour.”

Galen nodded. He recognized the Fleet Commander’s greater rank and experience but also knew his own role as direct representative of Major Ross, the Supreme Commander on Alamo. All Galen wanted to do at that moment was make an intelligent comment so the fleet guy would feel more comfortable about being Galen’s subordinate. “So, the interceptor has to lure the two Mosh scout ships within range of the rail guns, which are hidden from them on the back side of a planetoid.”

The Fleet Commander smiled. “We’re on a planet and the rings around it are the debris from a moon that broke into pieces a long time ago. If anything, the rail guns are deployed on a moonetiod. Or is it a moonoid?”

The other commanders laughed and Galen laughed along with them. “Okay, I get it.”