Starfist: FlashFire (20 page)

“Thank you, General, for coming to see me on such short notice,” Chang-Sturdevant said. “I am sending your name to the Congress to confirm your promotion to Full General,” Lieutenant General Billie permitted himself a slight nod at this information, “but I wanted to hear from you personally regarding your plan for conducting the war against the Secessionists. I don’t mean to interfere with your plans, General, you know far more about these things than I do, but I wanted this meeting because once you leave to command your army, we will not be able to have another session like this.”

They sat in Chang-Sturdevant’s private office, Billie, Admiral Porter, and Marcus Berentus, the Minister of War.

“Ma’am, I appreciate that and I am delighted we could have this meeting,” Billie responded. He spoke in well-modulated tones and was careful to show deference to Chang-Sturdevant whom he privately regarded as a stupid, meddling bitch.

“Uh, you’re calling this relief expedition ‘Operation MacArthur,’ General? That’s brilliant!” Chang-Sturdevant smiled and nodded at Berentus. “Who thought of that name?”

“Well, I did, ma’am,” Billie replied, his voice dripping with modesty he did not feel. “I thought, under the circumstances, you know, it would be appropriate,” he smiled. Things were off to a good start!

“Marcus,” Chang-Sturdevant turned to Berentus, “maybe we should introduce legislation to reinstate the rank of General of the Army, and give General Billie here a fifth star? Have you ever thought along those lines, gentlemen?” she asked Porter and Billie. There was a twinkle in her eye. She was joking, sparring with her military advisers.

“ ‘Grand Admiral’?” Porter laughed, trying out the title, shaking his head. He was rising to the joke.

“Ah, no, no, ma’am,” Billie rushed on, “but now that you bring it up . . .” he laughed, but he was not joking. Who better to be the next five-star general after Douglas MacArthur than Jason Billie—after he’d suppressed the rebellion, of course.

Chang-Sturdevant got back to business. “We are all concerned, General, about the amount of time it will take for you to gather and deploy your forces. Our troops on Ravenette have their backs to the sea and even the reinforcements we’re sending in will not do more than bolster General Cazombi’s position. By the way, I’ve also recommended him for promotion. You will both have one more star before you leave here and I’d appreciate it if you would be the one to inform General Cazombi of his promotion when you get to Ravenette.”

Billie smiled, careful not to show his real feelings at the news. “He is a valiant soldier, ma’am, and I will be honored to pin on his third star when I get to Fort Seymour. He was sent to Ravenette because it was a known hotspot that required a steady hand and Alistair has provided that hand. He will prove a great asset to me when I arrive there to take command.”

“But we must move with all deliberate speed, General. General Cazombi is faced with overwhelming forces and he could be wiped out at any time.”

“I appreciate that, Madam President,” Billie responded. He glanced sideways at Admiral Porter, who nodded that he should proceed. “Ma’am, it is my opinion, the opinion of us all on the staff, that General Lyons, who commands the Secessionist forces, is planning on a set-piece battle to take place in the vicinity of Ashburtonville. His plan is to draw us in to the relief of General Cazombi, whose army is being held hostage, and inflict enormous casualties on us in the hope that our will to pursue this war will weaken and we shall negotiate a peace favorable to the Secessionist Coalition’s goal of independence. It is not my place to get into politics, ma’am, but even I can see that popular opinion can shift on this war since the people we’re fighting are not the minions of an evil dictator but citizens of a democracy—our own people in fact. This is a civil war and it must be ended as quickly as possible. General Lyons wants a set-piece battle and I am going to give him that and I’m going to win it.”

Chang-Sturdevant glanced over at Marcus Berentus, who nodded his agreement with Billie’s assessment. “That makes sense,” she admitted, “long casualty lists and military disasters will definitely weaken the will of our side to continue the fight.” She paused. “Admiral Porter has shown me an outline of your plan, General, but tell me again how you plan to muster your troops and deploy them. I’m an old lady, General, and I need to have these military details explained to me.” She smiled.

Billie grinned affably. “Old age runs in my family too, ma’am,” he responded, and everyone laughed, but he knew very well that she understood perfectly what his plan was. She was just sizing him up. “Madam President, we all know that, in the end, soldiers pick up their weapons and attack their enemies but there is much that must happen before they get to that point. At least there is much that should take place if the battles are to be won.” Chang-Sturdevant nodded that he should continue. “I cannot commence a massive combat operation like this without first integrating all the elements of this army, which will consist of regulars and reserve-component forces. As you know, the reserve and guard units are made up of willing men and women but not all are ready, not as ready as the regular components. We must ensure that any deficiencies in equipment and materiel are corrected before the guard units are sent into battle, especially since they will compose about two-thirds of my total combat force. And we must be sure, too, that the regulars are ready, up to strength in both personnel and materiel.”

He called up a chart on the President’s vidscreen that gave a detailed breakout of the forces he proposed for his army. “I will command an army of three infantry corps of about sixty thousand men each. One corps I scraped together from various regular troops stationed within the core of Human Space. I did that, ma’am, in order to leave the far-flung garrisons intact. The other two corps will be made up of guardsmen and reservists culled from those worlds that have agreed to support the war and who have troops ready for deployment. Other worlds will contribute forces when they are ready and as required. We cannot organize an army of this size in the face of the enemy. And I emphasize that none of these units has ever fought together under a coordinated battle plan. My commanders must be aware of that plan as well as the capabilities of the other units involved. We will have time en route to Ravenette to work out command-and-control problems. But all the bugs must be worked out before we arrive in orbit around Ravenette. That is why I am marshaling my forces on Arsenault, our training world. It is centrally located in Human Space, can accommodate an army of this size, and is a convenient jumping-off place for onward deployment. I must arrive at Ravenette with my army well organized, fully equipped, and all of my commanders fully cognizant of the role they will play in the battles to come.”

“I must also add, Madam President,” Admiral Porter spoke up for the first time, “that the same applies to the starships that will make up the fleet that will support General Billie’s command. Many of the starships and crews come from the naval militias of the worlds that have agreed to contribute men and materiel, very few of which have ever undertaken actual wartime maneuvers. He is going to Ravenette with a powerful but basically untested weapon of war.”

Chang-Sturdevant nodded. “Please continue, General.”

“Then there are the logistics of an operation this size. Even if every unit arrives on Arsenault with its full combat load and its personnel complements fully manned, we must arrange for resupply and reinforcement because the level of combat we will encounter on Ravenette will be intense and will consume men and materiel at a very high rate. And we must also acknowledge that the enemy can reinforce his army on Ravenette over well protected and relatively short distances while everything we need will have to go with us or come to us over the vast reaches of space.”

“How long, do you estimate, between the time your forces assemble on Arsenault and your arrival in orbit around Ravenette?”

“Madam, transit time will be two weeks, that’s a given. The troops are already on their way to Arsenault and I shall depart for there tomorrow and be on the ground in five days, so a week to assemble the forces and then a week to ten days to do the shakedown. Since Arsenault is also a military stores depot, we can make up any shortages while there. So I estimate one month from now we’ll be ready to go into battle.”

“One month,” Chang-Sturdevant echoed. “Well, if your estimate of General Lyons’s plan is correct, our garrison at Fort Seymour should still be intact,” she sighed. “And frankly,” she added, “I don’t see a better plan than the one you have, General Billie.”

“What is your estimate of casualties?” Marcus Berentus asked.

This was the one question Billie dreaded but he decided to be frank. “A minimum of ten percent in maneuver elements, sir, quite possibly higher than that in individual units engaged. When we succeed in breaking out of the defenses General Cazombi has established we will be attacking a well-fortified enemy and should anticipate a high rate of attrition. I apologize, ma’am,” he nodded to Chang-Sturdevant, “for the necessity of speaking about casualties in such a callous manner and I assure you, the lives of my soldiers are as precious to me as they are to their own mothers.”

“I appreciate that, but as a predecessor of yours said famously, any general who can’t look dry-eyed upon a battlefield will wind up causing more casualties. Isn’t that right?” Chang-Sturdevant asked.

Billie did not show his surprise. He was very familiar with Napoleon’s axiom, which he never expected to hear from a person like Chang-Sturdevant. The old broad was sharper than he’d realized.

“I don’t see any plans for including our Marines in your army, General.”

The question caught Billie off guard. “Well, ma’am, they will be employed as available.”

“And how will you employ them, General?” she asked.

“As fire brigades and as battering rams, Madam President, which is their traditional role in military operations of this size. When we mount the breakout Marines will be used to lead the effort. I leave it to Admiral Porter and the Commandant to arrange for follow-on forces, which no doubt will consist of Marine units.”

“And their casualties, General?”

“Very high, ma’am.”

Chang-Sturdevant was silent for a long moment. “Gentlemen,” she addressed them all, “General Billie’s plan is sound and I concur that he is the man to command this army,” she nodded at Billie. “I commend you, General Billie, on your excellent work. Now as commander in chief of all our forces, I charge you with putting this army together and executing your mission with all deliberate speed.” She stood up and the others immediately got to their feet too. “Keep me informed. Good day, gentlemen, and good luck.”

“One thing, Madam President?” Billie asked. Chang-Sturdevant nodded. “On the ground with General Cazombi is a Brigadier General Sorca. He commanded the infantry division originally deployed to Fort Seymour. May I ask Your Excellency to recommend him for promotion to Major General? I know him and he will be a valuable assistant to me.”

Chang-Sturdevant glanced at Marcus Berentus who shrugged. “General,” she said after a brief pause, “if promoting your dog to major general will help win this war, I’d do it. Sure, you give me this officer’s particulars and I’ll add his name to yours and send them both up for confirmation. I guarantee you’ll have your stars before you leave Arsenault. Marcus, stay with me for a while, would you?”

After Porter and Billie had left Chang-Sturdevant turned to Berentus and said, “Marcus, I like that guy. I think he’s just the man to win this war for us.”

“They call him ‘Jason the Janus,’ ” Berentus said, shrugging. “I think we’re in for a long war.”

It took Chang-Sturdevant a moment to connect the nickname with the Roman solar deity, heaven’s doorkeeper with two faces, one for the morning and one for the evening, and the patron of the beginning and end of things. His temple had always been open during war but closed during peacetime. She looked up sharply at her Minister of War, shaking her head to ward off the cold knot of doubt that had begun to form in the pit of her stomach.

In over thirty years as an army officer, General Jason Billie had never made a combat assault landing in an Essay. There is a first time for everything and that time was now, from Billie’s flagship, the CNSS
Mindanao
. Granted, ground fire from the Coalition forces besieging General Cazombi’s position was sporadic, but the admiral commanding the fleet was taking no chances with his starry passenger. The coxswain of Billie’s Essay had warned him and his staff that the landing would be rough.

As soon as they were safely on the ground the Essay’s coxswain surveyed the passenger compartment and cursed, “Goddamned army lubbers.” He would have to clean up the mess they had left behind. Those worthies, on legs like rubber, staggered out of the machine into the sally port. General Billie emerged wearing his breakfast all down the front of his immaculate battle dress uniform.

Major General Alistair Cazombi and his aide, accompanied by Brigadier General Sorca, came to rigid attention and saluted as their new commander stumbled toward where they were standing. “My God, Cazombi, you’ve lost weight!” Billie exclaimed.

“Yessir, about fifteen kilos. It’s Cazombi’s New Rapid Weight Loss Program. Absolutely Guaranteed to Work or All Your Fat Will be Refunded: No sleep, lots of worry, and a strict diet of reduced field rations. Welcome to Bataan, sir.”

Billie’s eyebrows shot up at the associations the nickname brought to mind, but he shook hands with the three officers and rapidly introduced his staff. “What in the world is that smell, Alistair?” he exclaimed. “Is there an open latrine nearby?”

“We hardly notice it anymore, sir. It’s ten thousand plus men with no water for washing and a sewage system that’s overloaded. It’ll be years before they can swim in Pohick Bay again. But I have to admit, sir, there is a certain, uh, ‘freshness’ to that smell I didn’t notice before—” he tactfully left the sentence unfinished.

“Before we got here?” Billie looked around at his aide, Captain Chester Woo, who was standing there red-faced, a sickly grin on his face. “My Gawd, boy, change your drawers!” Billie exclaimed, selfconsciously daubing at the puke on his own uniform. “Disgusting,” he muttered.