"Sir," Brett said, "I'm just as appalled by what's going on as you are." This was not exactly true, he was more confused than appalled, but it seemed that a little white lie was appropriate under the circumstances.
"Yeah, right," Braxton said, but he seemed a little calmer now. Slowly he lowered the gun down, not holstering it, but at least not pointing it at anyone anymore.
Brett let himself exhale a brief sigh of relief, aware that he had come within a bare inch or so of death.
Just then an announcement was paged across the ship's intercom, which had been accessed by the main control computer.
"This is Admiral Rosewood," a voice said. "Greenie troops have attacked this base in large numbers and we have been forced to surrender it to them. All ships in dock will remain sealed for the time being. We will delay allowing the terrorists access to them as long as we can. The highest-ranking officer on each vessel carrying nuclear weapons is ordered to disable those weapons as quickly as possible using the computer scrambling procedure. I repeat, the highest-ranking officer on each vessel carrying nuclear weapons is ordered to disable those weapons as quickly as possible. These weapons must not fall into the hands of the greenies in a state in which they can be detonated. Scramble them immediately! When the greenies do gain access to your ship, you are instructed to surrender peacefully to them and to obey their instructions. Do not attempt to fight or flee them. God help us all in this dark hour."
There was no further from the admiral or anyone else.
Braxton left the six Martians under the watch of the two security personnel and headed up the ladders to the torpedo room. It took him less than ten minutes to permanently destroy the detonation computers on the weapons.
Brian could not believe the day he was having. He had awakened early that morning expecting nothing more than another day on the streets of Eden, answering calls for assistance and taking crime reports. Now, with lunchtime barely passed, he was in a completely different uniform, sitting in the cockpit of a Mosquito, and circling two thousand meters above the MPG deployment area on the edge of the city. His laser cannon was set to wartime charging level and his wing pods were each holding a 1000-kilogram free-fall penetration bomb. Mars was rebelling against WestHem. He still couldn't believe it, was still not quite sure just how he felt about it.
The surrender and cease fire had taken place less than an hour before. Down below he could see the rows of MPG tanks and APCs that were forming up. The call-up was still underway of course but better than seventy percent of the Eden division soldiers had already reported for duty. More than a hundred armored vehicles were now poised and ready for action, their task to march on the marine barracks and gain entry to it. The APCs each contained a squad of heavily armed and bio-suited infantry troops. The tanks would support them at the entrances. Brian and his gunner were but one of more than thirty aircraft that were circling above in tight formations. Their task would be to support the breach from the air, which meant that they would bomb the living shit out of the barracks if any harm came to the troops trying to enter it.
"I feel like a sitting duck up here circling like this," said Colton, his gunner. "Those anti-air emplacements on the edge of the barracks have probably got a lock on us right now. Those are heavy caliber guns. If they hit us, we won't have to worry about ejecting. There won't be anything left to eject."
"There's only four emplacements," Brian said soothingly, although he was a little nervous as well. "They may get four of us but they'll be dead before they can recharge. I don't think even marines are that stupid."
"I think maybe you're giving them too much credit," Colton replied.
They circled in silence for a few more minutes, the engine humming at only a few RPMs above idle, the fuel and oxygen gauges steady. They could stay up nearly five hours at this rate of consumption.
"Where's this all gonna lead, Brian?" Colton said softly, breaking the silence. "Did Whiting just dig herself a hole and pull us in after her?"
Brian made a quick check out the cockpit window, checking the position of the Mosquito on his wing. He then scanned his eyes over his instrument panel, checking the readings. He then returned his eyes forward, looking out at the armor that was assembling below. "She might have," he allowed. "But we all got the speech before we suited up today, didn't we? We all had the opportunity to back out of this thing. If we're going down a hole it's not because she dragged us in. We jumped in after her."
The Martian troops began to move in a few minutes later. From the wasteland side of the marine base, the tanks and APCs rolled across the sand at half speed, their treads kicking up a huge cloud of dust that was slowly blown east by the prevailing winds. The Mosquitoes moved even closer to the base, circling virtually right above it, where they could provide mass bombing and laser fire support if needed. The tanks held back a half a kilometer from the airlocks, their laser cannons charged, their eighty millimeter main guns locked and loaded with high explosive, penetrating shells. The APCs continued on, not coming to a halt until they were less than a hundred meters from the doors of the airlocks. Their ramps swung down and the troops off loaded, quickly forming up into company sized units, their rifles and SAWs ready for action. Slowly they advanced, expecting to be fired upon at any moment.
Their expectations were not met. When they reached the airlocks, the doors slid obediently open, just as had been promised in the surrender agreement. Inside, all of the marines had been removed from the assembly area and the entire section had been decompressed. The troops passed through the airlocks and into this room quickly, fanning out and covering all of the doors. The airlock doors were then shut again and the assembly room was recompressed, a process that took more than twenty minutes. Only then were the doors to the main part of the base finally opened. The troops began to move onto the base to take it under occupation.
At the main entrance on the Macarthur Avenue side, other troops moved down the corridors to enter from here. At the tunnel where the fighting had taken place they stepped over the corpses of the marines that had fallen in the three breakout attempts.
In all, more than nine hundred MPG infantry soldiers entered the base and took up occupation duties. They found the marines inside to be verbally abusive but otherwise unarmed and docile. They were instructed to return to their dormitories for the time being and they went without question. No shots were fired and the long process of clearing the base of weapons and communication gear began to take place.
At Triad Naval Base a similar process was underway. Here the task was complicated by the limited number of soldiers available and the high number of civilian personnel that worked on the base. It was quickly realized that more soldiers were needed and an order went out to both New Pittsburgh and Libby to send a battalion apiece up. The decision was made to hold all personnel exactly where they were until their arrival.
Meanwhile, the deployment of the MPG continued and by 4:00 that afternoon 98% of the active members had reported to their duty stations across the planet. Each unit that deployed was told of the circumstances of the call-up and offered the chance to forgo participation in what was going on. A few took the offer, removing their uniforms and going home, but the vast majority stayed and agreed to follow whatever orders they were given.
Movement orders were issued to nearly every combat unit that formed up. In every Martian city, armed and armored soldiers took control of control centers and federal offices. Corban Hayes and the remaining agents were in the New Pittsburgh office when a company of troops rolled up outside in APCs and surrounded the building. Though the agents were armed with automatic weapons, they gave up without a fight when an MPG captain in the city control center shut off their power and utilities. Hayes was reportedly in tears as he was handcuffed and led towards the city jail to stew with the rest of his men.