"Understood," the oolt'ondai said. "I will do that immediately."
"And," the distant commander added with a hiss of humor, "I take it I don't have to suggest that you use caution."
"Agreed," the oolt'ondai answered.
"I will take my oolt immediately, Oolt'ondai," Cholosta'an said, starting to swing his tenar to the north.
"Softly, Kessentai," Orostan said, flapping his crest in negation. "I did mention that you were not considered entirely expendable, right?" The oolt'ondai ran his finger down the readouts until he grunted in satisfaction. "Oldoman," he said into his communicator. There was a moment's pause, which evoked a snarl, but the communicator finally lit.
"What?" came a harsh answer.
"The humans have been seen trying to make it across the road. Go north and cut them off; I will follow with the rest of the force."
"I go!" came the reply. "Enough of this waiting in the dark!"
"An expendable one?" Cholosta'an asked.
"Eminently," Orostan agreed. "His oolt'os are on their last legs from hunger, not because he does not have the credits to afford it, but because he expects them to find food on their own. Terrible equipment, not a decent gene line in the group. Damned few usable skills and all replaceable. He's not worth the air he and his oolt breathe." For a group called 'The People of the Ships' it was the ultimate insult.
"And will we follow with the rest of the force?"
"Oh, definitely," Orostan said, sending orders to his key subcommanders. "But carefully and slowly, the least worthy scouts out to the front. It is not worth losing a thousand oolt'os to catch one small group of humans, no matter how dangerous."
* * *
"I don't see that it's worth this expenditure to cover one group of lurps," the corps artillery commander complained.
It was inevitable that everyone would want to get their two cents in just as soon as they woke up. And with the corps commander fulminating in the pre-dawn hours the word had quickly woken his staff. Who had descended in full fury on one lonely major.
Who didn't have an ounce of back-up.
"I don't see that it's worth the expenditure to keep you fed, Colonel." Major Ryan was tired and getting just a bit cranky. And trying to follow the battle around Seed while surrounded by chateau generals was getting on his nerves.
"Enough of that," General Bernard said. He was a big, florid commander who filled his BDU uniform like a bass drum. This also described the occasional military genius in history, but unfortunately that particular description, "military genius," did not extend to General Bernard. He had been the Virginia National Guard commander prior to the invasion, what is called the Adjutant General. Upon the Federalization of all forces he had retained command of the 29th Infantry Division up until the debacle that was generally called the Battle of Spottsylvania County. During the first landing individual units of the division had fought bravely and occasionally brilliantly. But the general had been shown to be completely out of his depth and when he ordered his division artillery, against standing orders, to initiate contact with the Posleen, it had contributed, markedly, to the ensuing massacres of the 9th and 10th Corps.
However, his political skills had stood him in good stead in the following war of blame-calling and finger-pointing. Certain prominent generals had gone down in flames, the President at the center of the controversy had, of course, died, but a few others, both deserving and undeserving of blame, had managed to survive. In Bernard's case he had even prospered, pointing out that the general that ordered his relief was shortly thereafter soundly defeated by the Posleen. The fact that General Simosin was also the victim of a very deliberate and subtle hacking of his control net was missed in the debate. Indeed, the fact that the battle took place at the time and in the way that it did being at least partially the fault of General Bernard and his single rash and stupid order was missed in the debate. Thus he was reinstated and even, eventually, promoted. However, everyone who was "in the know" was aware that as a field commander he was incompetent at best and dangerous at worst. Thus his posting to the relatively low priority Rabun Gap Defense Zone. This was not a guy you were going to trust at Chattanooga or Roanoke or Harrisburg.
General Bernard was also aware of this thin ice. And thus he did not immediately hop to the defense of his artillery commander. "One of the things we are here to decide is how much support they need. And I released the FPF batteries."
"We probably won't need final protective fire right away, sir," Colonel Jorgensen said. "They seem to be expending most of their attention on these lurps. But if they follow them all the way back to the lines, assuming they make it, then we might have problems."
"The indications so far are that this group is sitting on its hands," Colonel McDonald pointed out. The corps intelligence officer was well aware that those were, technically, "his" lurps out there. What was even more important was that if he lost them it was unlikely he'd get a new set with the same capabilities any time soon. He had some "home grown" teams, but they didn't have the experience or the equipment of the long-service Special Operations types that had been transferred to Fleet Strike. Which would mean local patrols with standard equipment. Including regular radios. And since the Posleen seemed to be learning to track in on radios pretty quick, that would mean teams with not much in the way of communications ability.
So for a variety of reasons, not excepting the milk of human kindness and the interests of one soldier looking out for another, he didn't intend to let these two jerks hang Mosovich out on a limb.
"We have plenty of movement in the sensor areas," McDonald noted. "They're getting ready to move out of the sensor coverage. But even if they do we can get good fire on the approaching forces. It's only ammo; bullets not bodies, remember?"
"It's only ammo to you, George," Colonel Jorgensen said. "But it's my boys and girls feeding the guns. It's my cost for replacing tubes. I've got to explain the trunion damage and, for that matter, the ammunition expenditure. And we've got a globe sitting out there, planning who knows what. What happens when they come swarming at the wall? Where do we get the ammunition then?"
"Colonel, I've seen your ammo dumps," Major Ryan said. "You've got enough ammo on hand for five days of continuous fire, especially with all the units we lost to Tenth Army. Five . . . days. Trust me, those defenses will not last five days if the Posleen come at us in force. Five hours will be about right. So you've got plenty of ammo on hand in that case."
"I think we'll give a better accounting of ourselves than that," Bernard said. The wear and tear on the artillery would just mean he got new tubes sooner and this damned major would undoubtedly make some sort of a report of his "fighting spirit." "But we do have a sufficiency on hand. Fire them up, Red. Take every call for fire, fire on every sensor target. Major Ryan has been on this from both ends; let him handle the interface and you give him all the support he asks for."
"Thank you, sir," Ryan said. "I have been on their end and I do know what it's like." He paused for a moment. "And I'll admit this is way beyond my level, but I think you need to call Army and ask for your arty back, sir. I'll double that through COE if you like. Those Posties aren't acting right."
"I concur on that analysis, sir," Colonel McDonald said. "Just watching them on the sensors you can see they are staying way more coordinated. Look at this group over by Seed. Or the one that has been pinning down Low Gap Bridge and the 441 Bridge. Usually when you get shooting the Posties swarm towards the fighting. These guys are sitting the fighting out, holding key terrain. That, sir, in my professional estimation is a nightmare."