Problem 1 — LZ's are too far out from target. This gives enemy special forces units, mortar teams, and, most significantly, air crews, far too much time to cause attrition of our armor and men which, in turn, causes degradation of morale, breakdown of command/control at small unit level due to deliberate targeting of officers and NCOs. Solution: Land closer in?? This does violate doctrine but why twice the distance of nearest artillery range? Why not just outside nearest artillery range? True, this puts units in range of enemy tanks if they choose to advance on the LZ but the Martians don't have that many tanks, certainly not enough to challenge a well-defended LZ as long as we get our own tanks out as quick as possible and stationed on the perimeter.
Problem 2 — Martian special forces units attempt to draw us outside our LZ perimeter so they can engage us, slowing us down further, causing further attrition and further degradation of morale. Solution: tight perimeter manned primarily by tanks dug into hull-down positions. Keep these positions within 500 meters of the landing ships, keep exposed troops to a minimum. Do NOT go beyond this perimeter no matter what the provocation.
Problem 3 — Martian air superiority. Solution: None. Not in this conflict. Hovers cannot stand up to fast-moving fixed wing aircraft with the ability to hug the ground and pop out at will. Any attacks made by hovers must be fast, short, and able to withdraw back to the perimeter before Martian aircraft can respond.
Wilde stared at this last paragraph for a few minutes, feeling like there was something significant there but not quite able to grasp what it was. "Fast, short, and able to withdraw..." he said to himself. "Hmmm."
His eyes flitted back up to Problem 1, to the line that read, Solution: Land closer in?? He then looked down at the bottom of the screen, to Problem 4, which read: Martian heavy guns have the ability to neutralize our 150mm mobile guns, therefore eliminating our ability to support ground forces with artillery — a staple of any ground campaign. Solution: Must find a way to take out these Martian fixed 250s. They are too small of targets for AA-71s to hit with accuracy and accuracy is mandatory to destroy large guns in thick, concrete bunkers. Hovers are the ideal attack platform for this task as they can close and make a direct shot with their high intensity lasers but the Martian air superiority precludes this.
"Or does it?" he whispered, looking back up to the solution for Problem 1. Land closer in?? The Martians had ripped through their hovers as they'd tried to move them up to the forward refuel point so they could undertake the mission against the heavy guns. But what if there were no forward refuel point?
He quickly opened another window in the planning software, this one a map of the Eden vicinity. He began to look at the terrain, his eyes searching for the perfect place. It wasn't long until he found it. He made a few notations and then looked up at Browning, who was reviewing something on is own computer screen.
"General," he called, "would you mind coming over here for a minute?"
Browning frowned but trudged his way over. "Yes? Did you come up with something?"
"I think I have," Wilde said. "I think maybe I've found a way to negate some of the problems we encountered in phase one."
"Good," Browning said. "Write them up and we'll go with them."
"Uh... but, sir," he said carefully. "Don't you want a preliminary review?"
"I'm sure whatever you come up with is fine," he said. "We have the numerical advantage after all. There is one other minor thing that has just cropped up."
Wilde winced at these words — he'd heard them far too many times now. "And what might that be?"
Browning told him. Wilde shouldn't have been surprised at this point, but he was. "Sir... Jesus. In light of this... minor change, we're going to need to get our people down on the surface as soon as possible if this is going to work."
"How soon are we talking?" Browning asked.
"Yesterday if we could," Wilde said, still trying to come to grips with what he'd just been told. "It's imperative we get our landing ships down before the Martians have a chance to start reinforcing."
"But you don't even have a plan for deployment yet."
"I know," Wilde groaned in frustration. "I was counting on at least a week after the space strikes isolated those cities, but now..." He shook his head. "Jesus Christ, sir. I need to get to work and go into hyperdrive. If I stay up all night I might be able to have preliminary landing and targeting areas complete. That will at least give us a starting point."
"I like the way you think, Major. You're showing some good old-fashioned WestHem gumption."
"Thank you, sir. Now I'd better get cracking on this thing."
"Of course," Browning said. "Right after you prepare a press briefing for me on this latest development."
"Press briefing? Sir, time is of the essence here. Can you get one of the other staff aides to put together the briefing?"
"Nobody does them as well as you do, Major," Browning told him. "You have a certain flair for that sort of thing. You know how to put military terminology into terms the ignorant civilians can understand. Besides, what's another couple of hours anyway?"
Wilde sighed, said his "yes, sir" and then went to work on the press briefing. As soon as it was complete General Browning delivered the "good news" to the big three.
General Jackson and Major Sprinkle watched General Browning's briefing live on the main terminal in Jackson's office. Like Major Wilde both men were simply beyond astonishment at the stupidity of the decisions being made by their adversaries and by the fact that they were announcing them in advance. This one, however, was quite possibly the stupidest of them all. They had just stood down the space strikes indefinitely.
"And so it is felt," Browning's image explained, "that since the liberation and occupation of both Eden and New Pittsburgh are now imminent, there is little point in destroying the vital rail linkages that provide access and commerce to those two cities. These rail lines, after all, are what will allow us to move our own troops and equipment to other Martian cities and to quickly resume commerce and transportation as soon as they are secure. In particular we will need to move military supplies, steel, and manufactured products from New Pittsburgh to Eden and we will need to move food and other agricultural products from Eden to New Pittsburgh. These intact rail lines will also help alleviate the starvation and famine that has been rampant on Mars since the terrorist elements seized control of it four months ago."
"So what do you think?" Sprinkle asked. "Trans-Continental behind this one?" Trans-Continental Railways was the largest rail conglomerate in WestHem with an incredible forty-four percent market share of all passengers and freight that traveled by train. They were also the parent company of MarsTrans, the company who held an absolute monopoly on all Martian rail travel, be it passengers or freight, intra-city or inter-city. MarsTrans was, in fact, Trans-Continental's most profitable division — or at least it had been until the Martians had seized it.
"Undoubtedly," Jackson replied. "The same story as the rest of the corporations. They don't want their property destroyed in the name of liberating the planet — some other corporation's property is fine, but not ours."
"It's what you said would defeat them," Sprinkle said, sorry for all the bad-mouthing he'd done of Jackson since his decision not to engage retreating troops and his decision to hold all MPG units in place despite the threat of concentrated attack on Eden. "You called it, General. You called it just like it is."