Like most of the command rank officers involved in the conflict, Spears was somewhat upset and disillusioned by the losses and defeats his forces had taken in what had been promised a slam-dunk conflict. His spacecraft had not had to perform their primary mission of fleet defense since the Martians had not been so dumb as to attack the armada with their A-12s based in Triad but even so he had lost more than forty spacecraft and twenty crews, most of them escorting AA-71s on useless photo-recon missions of which only three had been successful since establishing orbit. The reason for this was twofold. The first was that the Martian pilots had turned out to be much better at their jobs than even the most pessimistic pre-war reports had given them credit for. The second was the fact that political and economic concerns had not allowed him to take the most basic precautions of any orbital space campaign — that of removing the enemy's ability to detect outgoing launches and sorties.
But now Spears was finally starting to sense a turnaround in the conflict — something that would put orbital space superiority back in his hands where it belonged. Two days ago he'd been asked by General Browning's aide — Major Wilde of the marines — to formulate a plan to destroy the Martian's navigation, communications, and, most importantly, their space reconnaissance satellites, a mission his F-22s had been specifically designed to undertake, that his crews regularly trained in as it was a vital part of EastHem vs. WestHem doctrine. This was the plan he was now presenting in detail to the good major by means of a holograph generated in his main pilot briefing room. The holograph showed a two-meter globe of Mars with the cities showing on the surface and each and every known satellite in both geosynchronous and low-Mars orbit represented by constantly moving red dots. The positions of each of these satellites could be updated in real-time, shown in past time, or projected forward into future time.
"Basically, the plan is this," Spears explained to Wilde, who had a digital notebook open on his laps and was making constant notations. He used a laser pointer to show the location of the armada. "We start with the geo-sats first, hitting the recon birds that are closest to our own position and then moving outward from there. The rationale behind this, obviously, is to eliminate their closest assets first which will cripple or destroy their ability to detect our spacecraft launches and flight paths on subsequent missions."
Wilde nodded. "Space operations are not exactly my specialty," he said. "But my understanding is that our losses so far on the recon missions have because we have not been allowed to hit these satellites?"
Spears looked at him carefully. The rumor at the top was that this man — a mere major — was actually much more than just an aide to former General Wrath and current General Browning. It was said he was actually a brilliant military tactician who had been trying to keep this war steered on the path it was supposed to have been on the entire time, only to have most of his advice disregarded again and again by political concerns. It was said that he now had pretty much a free hand in planning the next phase of Operation Martian Hammer and that his "suggestions" to General Browning had already been approved. That was the rumor anyway. But this was the WestHem military after all so it was possible the rumors were wrong and Wilde was actually nothing more than a sneaking, back-stabbing, two-faced weasel like most aides to command rank officers (including Spears' own aide) and he was only trying to get Spears to spout off something negative about the war to date so he could report it and use it as the basis for finger-pointing in upcoming reports on the losses.
"Look, Admiral," Wilde said, seeming to pick up on his thoughts. "I'm not here to start finding blame or to pin the responsibility for past mistakes on anyone. I'm not composing any reports on what went wrong or why we lost what. I'm simply trying to put together a cohesive and logical plan to achieve the objective of capturing the city of Eden with the least amount of friendly casualties as possible. Now I know your forces took some significant losses on those recon missions they escorted. Logic and common sense tells me it was because of the real-time recon those satellites provided the Martians as you launched and headed for the IP. I just want to know if this is true or not."
Spears nodded, his respect level for this man climbing upward a few notches. "Yes," he said. "Basic doctrine for orbital space warfare around an enemy planet or moon is to take out the enemy's satellites first and foremost. Since we weren't allowed to do this in the initial phases, everything my ships do is transmitted immediately and in real-time to Martian Space Command at Triad. No matter how many spacecraft I sent to escort a recon mission, they knew about it the moment they leave the bays and send more."
"So once we take out the nearest satellites?"
"We'll be able to hit the rest with near impunity," Spears confirmed. "Not only that, but our bombing missions — when they go — will also be able to launch and enter the atmosphere unseen and unchallenged, therefore almost insuring their success in their missions. It's the same thing the EastHems did to this very planet during the Jupiter War."
Wilde smiled. "That's exactly what General Browning wants to hear, sir. Please proceed with your briefing."
He proceeded, explaining the order of attack, times of attack, and methods of attack one by one. He was only halfway through, however, when Wilde's PC began to buzz, indicating an urgent communication request from Browning.
"Excuse me for a minute, Admiral," Wilde said, pulling the PC from his waist and flipping it open. As expected, Browning's face was on the screen. It looked a bit nervous and upset. "Yes, General?" Wilde asked.
"I need you to drop whatever you're doing and come to my office right away," Browning told him.
"Uh... well, sir, I'm receiving a briefing on the upcoming anti-sat campaign from Admiral Spears at the moment. Can it wait until I'm done?"
"No," Browning said without hesitation. "Tell the admiral you'll hear the rest of the briefing later."
Wilde suppressed a sigh. "Yes, sir," he said. "I'll be there in five minutes."
Browning didn't acknowledge him. He simply ended the communication, his face disappearing from the screen to be replaced by the Marine Corps emblem. Wilde flipped his PC closed and looked up at Spears. "My apologies, Admiral," he said, "but could we finish the briefing later? General Browning needs me for an urgent matter."
"Of course," Spears said. "I think you've got the basic feel for the plan anyway, don't you?"
"I do," Wilde agreed. "As you said, the important part is to hit the nearer satellites quickly and simultaneously in a coordinated initial strike. After that, it will be nothing but mop-up."
"You've got the feel for it all right. Assuming that General Browning approves this attack plan my flight crews can be ready to launch that initial strike in forty-eight hours."
"I think you can be assured the general will approve the plan," Wilde told him, meaning, of course, that if Wilde recommended approval it was as good as done.
"Excellent," Spears said. "Now all that's left to do is come up with a suitable starting time for the first launch and a catchy name for the operation itself. You know how the media eats up stuff like that."
Wilde wanted to shake his head and roll his eyes. He didn't. "I'm sure whatever you come up with in that regard will be fine, sir," he said. He braced and gave a smart salute. Spears returned it and dismissed him.
Wilde walked quickly through the halls of the Nebraska, making his way from the naval operations section to the main operations deck, wondering just what Browning — who was almost completely incapable of tying his own shoes without assistance — thought was so urgent. He passed effortlessly through the layers of dense security and directly into General Browning's office.