He needed all his wits right now. The federal attacks had been disorganized at first, but now they were focused and well-executed. Kyle figured they had a new officer in command over there…someone who knew what he was doing.
“All right everyone.” Warren switched the comlink to the general line; he was speaking to every soldier under his command. “You’ve done well and fought with courage I couldn’t have imagined. I’m proud of all of you…General Thompson is proud of all of you.”
He took a breath and let his words hang there for an instant. “But the enemy is coming back. They think they can overwhelm us and drive us from this position.” His voice was getting louder. “But our people in the valley are catching hell too, and the troops behind us are going into that fight to win the battle. If we falter…if we let the federals get through us, they will sweep around and crush our comrades. They will destroy this army.”
He was yelling now, but still his volume rose. “We will not move from this spot. If the enemy gets past this position it will be because every one of us is dead. As long as one of us is standing, we will hold this line. If anyone retreats, I will shoot him myself!” His fists were clenched as he spoke, and he hardly felt the pain from his wounds. “This battle is for our families, for our friends, for our comrades…it is for our home!”
All along the rebel line a great cheer rose, growing steadily in intensity even as the advancing federals came into view. Kyle stared straight ahead and shouted into the comlink, projecting one word loud enough to cut through the cheering, tumultuous din. “Fire.”
“We have to withdraw, sir.” General Wyatt Corning was a pompous ass and an insufferable windbag. But this time he was right, and Merrick knew it. The battle had been a bloodbath for both sides, but in the end it was the Marines who made the difference for the rebels. It was the retired corporal, deployed among 20 farmers and factory workers, keeping them in the fight, rallying them to meet whatever came. The privates and sergeants and officers who had mustered out and made Arcadia home…and now they made the rebel force an army, a real army.
The federal forces were broken, and Merrick knew it. They weren’t in headlong flight yet, at least not all of them. But there was no way he could mount another attack. If he didn’t retreat, the rebels would slip behind him and cut off his supplies. He’d be trapped in enemy territory, his army demoralized and in danger of annihilation. At least retreat would allow them to fight another day. They still outnumbered the rebels, and given time to rest and refit, they’d be back in the field.
He’d thought for a while that Jarrod had broken through on the flank, but the thrice-cursed rebels managed to hold on somehow…that devil Thompson feeding in just enough reserves, just in time.
Now Jarrod was dead. There were stories among the troops, accounts from those who claimed to be there…or secondhand from those who “knew someone who was there.” They said Jarrod was killed by the commander of the rebel position in a hand to hand battle on the last charge. It sounded like bullshit to Merrick, but he’d never know for sure. Jarrod’s body was behind enemy lines now, lying among the thousands who’d died this day.
While Jarrod was leading those last futile assaults, the center turned into a nightmare. The rebels there retreated back to their defenses, and his forces pursued…right into a nightmare of minefields and hidden tank traps. The federal forces, already disordered from the confused melee in the plain, were thrown into utter chaos - just as the rebels from the ridgelines attacked their flanks.
“Lieutenant Thurn…” Merrick’s voice was strained. So this is what defeat tastes like, he thought. It is bitter. He felt his stomach clench, and he wanted to drop to his knees and wretch. It took all his strength to stand there impassively and issue the orders. “The army will retreat.”
He turned to walk away when a small clump of soldiers approached him, carrying something in a tarp. They were led by an officer, a captain Merrick didn’t recognize. “General Merrick, we’ve captured a wounded rebel general.” The captain tried to salute, but he was holding on to a corner of the tarp, so it was roughly done at best. “I think he is their second in command.”
Merrick looked at the blood-soaked figure lying motionless in the tarp. “Is he still alive?”
“Yes, sir.” The captain was trying to stand as much at attention as he could while still holding the edge of the makeshift stretcher. “Barely.”
“Take him to my doctor.” Merrick nodded to the captain, dismissing him to carry out the order. Then he walked slowly toward the rear, grateful at least that the rebels were too battered to pursue. He looked over in the direction of the rebel lines, wondering where Will Thompson was right now. “There will be another day, General Thompson.” His voice was soft, barely audible. “Yes…there will be another day.”
Chapter 18
“I am not at all happy, ladies and gentlemen.” Gavin Stark stood at the head of the table staring down at the assembled Directorate. They didn’t need him to tell them he was upset – any time he didn’t take his seat, they knew there was trouble.
There were empty chairs, four of them. Position six was vacant; he’d never filled it after moving Alex Linden up to Number Three. The others were off-planet - Alliance Intelligence had committed everything to crushing the wave of rebellion sweeping across the frontier. If we don’t start getting better results, Stark thought, there are going to be more vacancies.
“Clearly, our efforts in several areas have not had the success we hoped for.” Stark’s tone was ominous, his stare as cold as death. “We are going to review each and every problem area and implement whatever strategies are necessary to end these costly and dangerous rebellions.”
Everyone in the room was staring at Stark, watching his every move, waiting for him to direct the meeting. All except Number Two. Jack Dutton was sitting at Stark’s side as always, but he was looking down at the table. His skin was pale and his eyes gray and filmy. Dutton’s career stretched back to the Unification Wars, over a century earlier, but finally time was overcoming even his herculean constitution. The rejuvenation treatments had become less and less effective in recent years, until finally they did nothing at all. No one thought Dutton had more than a couple months left, if that much, and the scramble for the Second Seat had begun. But right now everyone in the room was more worried about hanging on to their current position…and not ending up in some furnace somewhere.
“Let’s begin with a review of our military programs, and then we will proceed to status reports of individual worlds.” His gaze moved down the table. “Number Seven, please provide an update on our naval programs.”
Rodger Burke felt the weight of every eye in the room upon him. He slid his chair back slowly, rising to his feet and glancing around the table before focusing on Stark. “Thank you, Number One.” He cleared his throat nervously. “As you are all aware, we utilized the post-war demobilization as a cover to assign a significant number of navy ships to a new, Directorate-controlled force. The vessels that were ostensibly transferred into reserve status have been re-crewed with Directorate-chosen personnel.”
He absent-mindedly played with the buttons on his neatly-tailored suit as he spoke, an affectation most of those present found mildly distracting. Burke was a prickly, annoying sort of person, though he was undeniably effective in his work. “We now have 43% of immediate post-war hulls sequestered, and approximately two-thirds of this force had been fully crewed and currently operational.” He paused and glanced down at his ‘pad on the table. “If you refer to section 7.3 on your meeting brief you will see a table of organization for the task force sent to Arcadia. Currently, this is the only deployment of our new naval force. The balance of operational ships, are located in Epsilon Eridani. As that system is quarantined, it seemed like the best place to hide the ships until we deploy them elsewhere.”