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June 2, 2065. Office of the Fleet Deputy Commander, 09:00 hours.
"You should see the burn marks on my wall, sir" Bane replied jokingly.
Ross tilted back his head and laughed wholeheartedly. He very much missed the camaraderie that he shared with McQueen when the latter was sent back to Earth due to his injuries. Upon assuming command, Bane managed to fill in the void left by McQueen. Ross noticed that she was quite different from her predecessor, particularly by the way she kept her distance from her subordinates. However, she was quite relaxed among her peers, and she had a wry sense of humor that he very much appreciated. This war practically took away his ability to laugh, and had almost turned him into a cold granite sculpture. That changed almost instantly when Bane joined the Saratoga. Still, he was not able to establish a casual friendship with her, and they were never able to address each other by their first names. For them, the formality of rank remained firmly.
Ross pointed a chair to Bane. "Sit down, Colonel. What do you have for me?"
"Well, Admiral," Bane said as she took a seat opposite Ross, "I ran the various different scenarios on the tactical computer to calculate the probability risk factors. I used the two suggestions offered by Wellington, the supply convoy mission scenario and the ISSAPC with fighter escort scenario, as the two extremes, and tried to come up with several different options to maximize our chances of success. I won't waste your time with all the various possibilities. All I will do is to outline the two extreme scenarios, and propose the most practical model."
The one thing Ross had learned about Bane after a year of working together was that her proposals were always based on logic and thoughtful analysis. Consequently, he was practically able to trust her almost without question. "Go ahead, Colonel," Ross said.
"Sir, the first proposal by Wellington calls for a relief/supply convoy to be sent to Herron. The strength of this idea lies in the fact that the transport ships will be heavily protected by a screen of corvettes, frigates, destroyers, and possibly a carrier providing fighter cover. This will ensure that a substantial number of supply vessels will reach Herron, enabling the garrison to hold out much longer. The flip side to it is that a convoy that side will definitely attract the attention of the enemy, and casualties will be quite substantial. Furthermore, as you had already informed the commanders during yesterday's meeting, we could not spare ships, materiel, and personnel due to the magnitude of Operation Golden Bullet."
"Okay," Ross agreed. "Scratch that idea."
"The second Wellington proposal calls for an ISSAPC, escorted by several squadrons of fighters, to sneak through enemy territory to Herron while a diversionary force distracts the Chig front line units. I admit that his plan is much bolder, sir. Casualties will definitely be limited to those units that will be engaging the enemy directly. An ISSAPC and a small fighter contingent might, and I emphasize MIGHT, be able to make it to Herron virtually undetected."
"The flip side is that they might be wiped out if they encounter a superior enemy force," Ross interjected.
"That is not the only worry, sir," Bane asked. "Given the fact that Herron is 2000 KMSKs deep inside Chig territory, the fighters will have to burn a lot of fuel to get there. By the time they reach Herron, their tanks will practically be empty. And this doesn't account for the margin of flexibility needed for possible engagements with enemy fighters. Upon arrival at Herron, they may have to dodge Chig sentry satellites, if any, in order to land at the base."
"In my experience, Colonel, the Chigs only deploy sentry satellites in the orbits of planets firmly under their control."
"That is true, sir, but I won't put anything past the enemy. Think about it, sir. From my point of view, the best way to subdue a planet is to deploy sentry satellites. Their deployment would lure the garrison's fighters, if any, out to destroy them. The enemy, waiting above planet, would simply sweep in to tackle the fighters as they try to neutralize the sentry satellites. Secondly, the satellites would almost effectively blockade a planet since any relief vessels would have to negotiate them. In this fashion, the enemy's casualties would be minimized."
"Dear God," Ross said in an amazed tone. "I never even thought about that. Bane, I am glad you're on our side."
"Getting back to my point, sir, our fighters would have to navigate along the CPA and avoid any ACMs. The pilots won't appreciate that at all, sir. As such, the fighters based on Herron may have to provide cover for our people during the final approaches."
"Okay, what is your plan, Colonel?"
Placing a folder on Ross's desk, Bane took a deep breath. "My plan borrows heavily from Wellington's second idea. I have expanded it a bit to minimize the risks. They do exist, sir, but they are calculated risks."
"You're not only borrowing his ideas, Bane, but you're quoting him as well," Ross said teasingly. "I don't think you'll win any brownie points with Air Chief Marshal Rillian-Pennington."
Bane chuckled at the joke. "Anyway, sir," she continued, "I propose that we deploy four squadrons for this operation."
"Four squadrons?" Ross asked in a surprised manner. "Just to escort one man to Herron?"
"Sir, please hear me out," Bane pleaded. "Two squadrons will fly sorties into enemy territory in order to distract them. The two remaining squadrons, one of which will be fitted with auxiliary fuel tanks, will provide escort for Wellington. They will escort until about point 1500 KMSKs from Herron. At that point, the squadron fitted with the auxiliary tanks will proceed with the ISSAPC to Herron while the other returns to the fleet. In this scenario, if the enemy does not engage, the first squadron will have more than enough fuel to return safely to the fleet while ensuring that the second have enough fuel to proceed to Herron. If the enemy engages, the first squadron will provide cover, while the second and the ISSAPC proceed to Herron unmolested. About point 1000 KMSKs from planet, the second squadron will ditch their auxiliary fuel tanks and still have maximum fuel capacity to allow them to reach Herron as well as engaging the enemy if necessary. If they encounter any enemy patrols, they will be able to do so without worrying about the fuel consumption factor."
"What about the distance between points 1500 and 1000 KMSKs from Herron?" Ross asked worriedly. "If the enemy engages, then the fighters will be vulnerable. They can't execute ACMs or take EAs with reasonable chance of success while still carrying the auxiliary fuel tanks."
"I know that, sir," came the equally worried reply. "That is the calculated risk we have to take."
"I assume this is the plan you intend to submit to General Westinghouse, Colonel."
"That is correct, sir. In my opinion, this is the best way to get Wellington safely to Herron, short of using the entire fleet to fly him there."
"Then, you will have my absolute support, Colonel."
"Thank you, sir."
"Once you have the go ahead from the Supreme Commander, go and select the squadrons. Given its risky nature, I only want volunteers for this operation. However, do not begin the briefing until Wellington and I join you."
"As you wish, sir."
The front line commanders sat quietly as they waited for General Westinghouse to begin the meeting. Seeing everyone present and accounted for, he turned to Bane who was sitting between Ross and Wellington. "Ladies and gentlemen, I have instructed Colonel Bane to come up with a plan for transporting the Duke of Wellington to Herron," Westinghouse said. "I ask that you refrain from any questions or criticisms until she is finished with her presentation. Colonel, I believe you have something for us to consider."
Bane stood up, and meticulously outlined the details of the plans she had worked on the night before. She gave them outlines of other scenarios, as well as their risk factors, and insisted that her plan was the most viable. She handed the typed up proposal to General Westinghouse, and resumed her seat.
"Well, ladies and gentlemen, you heard the colonel. Any comments?" Westinghouse queried as he glanced through the written report.
General Matthews cleared her throat, and attracted the attention of those around her. "I am concerned about the fact that only one squadron will provide protection for the ISSAPC. I am not opposed to the idea, mind you."
"I understand your concerns, General," Bane replied. "However, we don't want to attract the enemy's attention by sending a larger force. It is a calculated risk that we have to take."
"That catchphrase seems to be popular lately," Rillian-Pennington said, glancing at Wellington. "Well, the sooner we implement this plan, the sooner we can begin the offensive. How much time do you need to prepare the respective squadrons, Colonel?"
"We can go at 05:00 hours tomorrow morning, sir," Bane replied.
"Go and make the necessary preparations, Colonel," Westinghouse ordered.
Bane stood up, saluted, and left the conference room.
"Now then, ladies and gentlemen, we can get back to the plan at hand," Westinghouse said. "At this moment, supply convoys are reinforcing the critical strong points along our front lines according to the requirements of 'Golden Bullet'. The 2nd and 6th fleets, as well as the supply convoys from Earth, will be here at approximately 16:00 hours today. According to the proposal Colonel Bane just gave me, taking all factors into account, Wellington will be able to assume command of the Herron garrison by 12:00 tomorrow. Given the 24 hours grace period needed to prepare garrison, we should be able to launch the offensive at 12:00 hours on June 4th."
"How soon would it take for our forces to break through to Herron, General?" Rugayev asked.
"Would you give us a reasonable estimate, Wellington?" Westinghouse asked.
"If the enemy turns tail at the sight of our armada, ladies and gentlemen, we would be able to break through to Herron in a matter of hours," Wellington said jokingly. "However, I doubt if the Chigs will be that obliging. We have four planetary bodies which we will have to subdue and occupy before we can proceed to Herron; Vigo, Junipa, Tahara, and Mendanis."
"Why don't we just annihilate the enemy forces on planet with thermonuclear devices?" Rillian-Pennington asked. "That would save the unnecessary deployment of ground forces for occupation purposes."
"Or, we could just by-pass them completely and isolate them," Matthews added.
"I do see the validity of the suggested course of actions," Wellington replied. "However, as expedient as they are, they do not serve our long term interest. Annihilating enemy forces on these planets would not serve the political interests of the powers that be. New York wants to portray the image that we are expanding humanity throughout the universe, and the thought of destroying habitable planets doesn't play that well with the press. Secondly, we need to secure our own lines of communication as we advance on the enemy. Leaving enemy forces isolated behind our lines could ultimately be problematic for us in the future. If we could coordinate our actions with Herron, we could possibly subdue and secure these planets within four days. Then, the armada could proceed to Herron."
"Aren't you being overly optimistic, Wellington?" Rillian-Pennington asked.
"Maybe I am, sir," came the reply. "But we were pushed out of these planets only two months ago. I assume the ground commanders have prepared plans for their eventual reoccupation."
"That is correct," De La Barre said. "The divisional and brigade commanders of the ousted garrisons have made plans for the eventuality, and are waiting impatiently to give a beating to the Chigs."
"The 15th fleet will be the spearhead of the offensive, supported by the 6th fleet, while the 2nd fleet support the ground forces in the move to retake these four planets," Wellington continued. "The 15th and 6th fleet will provide cover in the case of any enemy counter-attacks. Once these planets are secured, the supply convoys will take over support operations from the 2nd fleet, and we can then initiate a breakthrough to relieve Herron. If we completely take the enemy by surprise, we will be able to reach Herron within seven days after the commencement of the offensive."
"I do admire your optimism, Wellington," Rillian-Pennington said as he shook his head in disbelief. "I don't share it, but I admire it. What is the role of Herron with respect to Golden Bullet?"
"Herron will act out its role to the fullest as the thorn in the enemy's side, sir," Wellington said. "Its fighters and planetary batteries will harass any reinforcements that the enemy will try to rush to the front lines once our offensive commences. We may not be able to completely disrupt the enemy's lines of communication, but we will definitely make them pay through the teeth."
"You are aware that the Chigs will try to subdue Herron once they fully appreciate the potential consequences of our offensive," Westinghouse reminded.
"I am counting on it, sir," Wellington said enthusiastically. "I am hoping that Herron will occupy the enemy's attention long enough for us to subdue the four planetary bodies. From that moment, the armada will be in a position of strength to break through and relieve Herron. I am confident of the garrison's ability to hold out until then. As long as we can keep the Valerian electro-magnetic defense shield operating, our forces still have a fighting chance against the enemy."
"I wish you success and God speed on your mission to Herron, Wellington," Westinghouse said somberly as he turned to the rest of the senior commanders. "Ladies and gentlemen, you are to brief your respective branch of the armed forces with respect to Golden Bullet. I wish to initiate the offensive by 12:00 hours on June 4th at the earliest. You have approximately 48 hours to prepare for the offensive. You will report to me at 10:00 hours on June 4th with the operational timetables. Dismiss."
The senior commanders and their aides stood up, and went to Wellington to wish him luck. One by one they shook hands with him. Rillian-Pennington was the last person to approach Wellington. He waited until the room was empty with the exception of Eugene and Ross, who were waiting to take Wellington to the Herron mission briefing.
"Wellington, I wish you the very best of luck on this mission," Rillian-Pennington said as he extended his hand.
"Thank you, sir," Wellington replied as he shook hands with the air chief marshal.
"I oppose this plan absolutely, and I have voiced my concerns at the meetings," Rillian-Pennington said somberly. "Regardless of my objections, this offensive will be carried out. On my part, I will do my best to see that we achieve our objectives. I hope that the verbal exchanges we had will not poison your impression of me, and will not stand between us as men and comrades in arms."
"All is forgotten, sir," Wellington said. "Stiff upper lip and all that."
"What a gentleman you are, Adam," Rillian-Pennington said. "Until the next time, Wellington, and I do hope that there will be a next time."
On that note, the air chief marshal stood at attention, and saluted. He then turned around, and exited the room.
"If you would come with me, Wellington, I would like you to sit in on the Herron mission briefing," Ross said. "It will give you the opportunity to meet the men and women who will be escorting you to Herron."
"Thank you, Admiral," replied Wellington. "I would like that very much."
He and Eugene then followed Ross to the orientation room.
The pilots of the 58th, 93rd, 22nd, 41st squadrons all sat in the orientation room, waiting to be briefed on a mission. An hour earlier, Colonel Bane had assembled the entire 5th Air Wing, and asked for volunteers for an important mission. Virtually the entire squadron commanders present jumped up to volunteer in response to the request, but Bane selected those squadrons whose honchos were quick on their feet. She also selected two extra pilots and a lieutenant commanding an USMC infantry platoon to join the briefing. She then dismissed the rest of the 5th Wing, and told the remaining squadrons to remain in the room for their briefing. West, Hawkes, and the leaders of the other squadrons were conferring privately with the colonel at the front of the room. The rest of the pilots sat restlessly in their chairs, with the 58th occupying seats in the second row.
"Why did the captain have to volunteer us for this mission?" Paxton asked in an annoyed tone, irritated at the fact that West had volunteered the 58th. "We had just finished coming off dawn patrol. I haven't eaten since 04:00 hours this morning. I am starved like crazy, and he has to volunteer us for another mission."
"Quit grumbling, Wally," Montallo said in an equally annoyed tone. "You'll get us all in trouble. I am already on the captain's bad side, and I don't want to get in any deeper."
"Yeah," Habib agreed. "The captain knows what's best for us. Besides, what the hell are you complaining about? You're the one who's gung ho to get into action ever since graduation from boot camp."
"Oh, listen to you now, teacher's pet," Paxton replied tartly.
"Hey, don't pick on her, Wally," Morales said in a serious tone. "Just chill, man!"
"Look, I am not the only one complaining, Rod," Paxton said defensively. "You didn't exactly cheer for joy when we were ordered to report here an hour ago. We are missing chow for this."
"Now listen here, Paxton," Morales said angrily. "I am not happy about this anymore than you are, okay. Complaining about it is not going to get us out of here any sooner, and may make this situation worse. So just cool it, comprende mi amigo?"
"Okay, okay," Paxton said as he backed down, knowing better than to further annoy his friend.
West and Hawkes returned to join their subordinates following their mini conference with Bane and the other squadron leaders, and sat in the front row as Bane left the room. Paxton plucked up his courage, and leaned forward to whisper to West. "How much longer are we going to be here, sir?" he asked pleadingly.
"Do you have somewhere to go, Paxton?" West asked as he looked over his logbook.
"Yes, sir, the mess hall," came the reply.
"The mess hall is not going anywhere, Lieutenant, and neither are you," West fired back. "Good things come to those who wait. So just sit there and wait!"
"But, sir," he protested weakly, "we've been here for an hour already. How much longer are we supposed to wait?"
"You'll wait here another hour, if you have to, and for as long as it takes! Is that understood, Lieutenant?" West snapped.
"Yes, sir," Paxton replied weakly.
The young lieutenant sat back in his seat, and started to pout. The other junior members of the 58th simply shook their heads at his behavior, knowing his tendency to display acts of adolescent hypersensitivity. West turned in his seat, and looked at his subordinates. Hawkes also turned to face them. With a stern look, West read the riot act to the 58th. "I know you guys are tired and hungry, and are not interested in another mission right now," West said seriously. "However, I believe that it is in the best interest of the squadron."
"What's the mission, sir?" Montallo asked.
"We haven't a clue, Montallo," Hawkes replied abruptly. "All we know is that this is a very important mission. Otherwise, they wouldn't have asked for volunteers."
The door of the orientation room opened, and Ross entered with Wellington, Bane, and Eugene. Everyone in the room snapped to attention. Wellington, Bane, and Eugene took seats at the front of the room, and faced their audience. Ross crossed in front of the group, and turned to face them. "As you were, Marines," he said dourly. The entire room settled back in their seats, and Ross resumed his speech. "You people have volunteered for a very important mission, one which will have a profound impact on the war effort. The assignment you are about to undertake is classified and compartmentalized, and I expect all of you to act responsibly. Is that understood?"
"Sir, yes sir!" the pilots cried out in unison.
"Good," Ross acknowledged. "In approximately 48 hours, we will launch a counter-offensive against the enemy in this sector. We will hit the enemy where it hurts, and we will put all our might in this strike. Our aim is to break through the enemy's front lines and land with two feet firmly planted in his turf. We will take this fight back to them. Your mission, people, is to ensure that we are able to launch that offensive two days from now. For the details of this operation, I now turn the floor to Colonel Bane."
Ross took a seat next to Wellington, and Bane went to the podium. All eyes in the room were now focused on the colonel. "Ladies and gentlemen," she began, "this mission has the full authority of the Chiefs of Staff Committee in New York. The orders came directly from the top."
Bane paused for a few moments to allow her words to have their full effect. The pilots looked at each other, and sat up with acute interest in the briefing. "Our objective here, people, is to transport the Duke of Wellington 2000 KMSKs through hostile territory to Planet Herron where he will assume command of the Earth Forces garrison stationed there," she continued. "This mission will require that you take certain calculated risks, but risks nonetheless, that may place your lives in jeopardy. At this point, I have to ask if you wish to reconsider."
Captain Peter Bogdanis of the 93rd Squadron stood up. "Ma'am, all throughout this war, we have risked our lives to do our duty," he said. "I will do no less than what is expected of me. If there are any members of my squadron, or any other squadron in this room for that matter, who wish to withdraw from this mission, they may do so with honor."
Bogdanis resumed his seat while Bane scanned the room with her eyes. All the pilots indicated their willingness to take the risks by remaining in their seats. After a few tense filled minutes, Bane resumed the briefing. "This mission will be carried out in two folds, and require the participation of all four squadrons," she continued. "The first fold consists of two squadrons engaging in a raiding mission into enemy territory. You will fly into enemy-controlled airspace, strafe their airfields and bases, attack their shipping, engage any enemy vessel, and disrupt their lines of communication. In order words, you will have a free hand to do as much damage as you can, and for as long as you can. Be sure you have enough fuel to return back to the fleet intact. We need you for the offensive. The second fold consists of two squadrons escorting a heavily armed ISSAPC that will carry the Duke of Wellington. One of these squadrons will be fitted with auxiliary fuel tanks to ensure that the fighters have enough fuel to reach Herron safely. These two squadrons will escort the ISSAPC to point 1500 KMSKs from planet. At this juncture, the squadron not fitted with the auxiliary fuel tanks will turn around, and return to the fleet. On the return trip, you will have a free hand to do as much damage as you can. Again, just be sure you have enough fuel to return to the fleet. The remaining squadron will escort the Duke all the way to Herron. At point 1000 KMSKs from planet, the escorting fighters will ditch their auxiliary fuel tanks, and proceed on their own power to Herron. Upon arrival, you will place yourselves under the temporary command of the garrison's air commander. You will rejoin the Saratoga's air wing once the fleet reaches Herron. Any questions?"
West raised his right arm for recognition, and stood up. "I have two questions, ma'am."
"Go ahead, Captain West," Bane said.
"With respect to the second fold, ma'am," he began, "what if the squadrons make contact with any Chig patrols prior to reaching point 1500 KMSKs? Furthermore, between points 1500 and 1000 KMSKs from planet, the remaining squadron will still be flying with auxiliary fuel tanks attached. If engaged by the enemy, the fighters will not be able to take EAs or execute ACMs. In a 'fur-ball', both the planes and ISSAPC will be vulnerable to enemy fighters. What should we do then?"
"I was just about to get to that, Captain," Bane said. "If engaged by the enemy prior to reaching point 1500 KMSKs from planet, the squadron not fitted with the auxiliary fuel tanks will provide cover for the other squadron and the ISSAPC, and draw the enemy away from them. They must proceed unmolested to Herron. With respect to the second question, the escorting squadron must ditch the auxiliary tanks at point 1000 KMSKs from planet, the precise moment when those tanks will be empty. Here is your dilemma. If you ditch the tanks prior to point 1000 KMSKs in order to engage the enemy, you may not have maximum fuel capacity to reach Herron safely. If you do not ditch the fuel tanks, you will be easy targets for the enemy. You're damned if you do, and you're damned if you don't. This is my advice to you. Your priority is to ensure that the Duke reaches Herron safely. Pray to God that the enemy does not engage you between points 1500 and 1000 KMSKs from planet."
The entire room chuckled at Bane's assessment, and her expression suddenly turned sour.
"What are you laughing at, people?" she asked seriously. "I am deadly serious."
The pilots' laughter suddenly died down as the atmosphere in the room turned bleak. They came to the full realization that they may not survive this mission. Hawkes stood up to be recognized, knowingly fully that his question may heighten his comrades' sense of mortality.
"You have a question, Lieutenant Hawkes?" Bane asked.
"Ma'am," he began tentatively, "out of the four squadrons here, who will be part of the first fold and who will be part of the second? You didn't give us our assignments when the honchos volunteered."
"That is correct, Lieutenant," Bane replied as she went to the table and picked up her cap. "Your actual assignments will be based on the luck of the draw. In my cap are four slips of papers. The respective assignments are written on each slip. Each squadron commander will draw a slip. That will determine your individual assignment."
Bane handed the cap first to West, who reached in and pulled out a slip. He then passed it to Bogdanis, who did the same thing, and passed it to the commanders of the 22nd and 41st. Once the ritual was completed, the cap was handed back to Bane. "All right, what are your assignments?" Bane asked somberly.
"My squadron will take part in the diversionary attack," the commander of the 41st squadron announced.
"So will mine," the commander of the 22nd added.
"The 93rd will provide escort up to point 1500 KMSKs from Herron," Captain Bogdanis said.
"The 58th will escort the Duke all the way to Herron," West announced somberly.
"Lieutenants Chambers and Mirk will pilot the ISSAPC, and I have assigned Lieutenant Schneider to provide security for the Duke," Bane announced.
"If I may speak, Colonel," Wellington interjected.
"Yes, sir," Bane replied.
"I don't see the need for a whole infantry squad just to provide security for me on an ISSAPC," Wellington said. "Since we will be in space, I believe that you should only provide enough personnel to man the weapons systems. Don't risk lives unnecessarily on my account."
"I see your point, sir," Bane acknowledged. "In that case, Lieutenant Schneider, who is your best non-com?"
"That would be Corporal Johnson, ma'am," Schneider replied.
"In that case, Lieutenant, assign Corporal Johnson and one of your sergeants to act as security personnel for the Duke," Bane ordered, triggering a nod of acknowledgement from Schneider. "All right, people, Operation Chaperone will commence at 05:00 hours tomorrow morning. The 41st and the 22nd will take off at 05:00, and proceed to Sector Omega. The 93rd and the 58th will take off at 05:10 hours, and take the CPA flight path to Herron. Captain West will be in command of that phase of the operation. I will not be with you out there since I am needed here. Please make the necessary arrangements with respect to your personal situations. I have asked the chaplain and the ship's psychologist to be available for the rest of the afternoon. I wish you success and God speed. Admiral?"
Ross stood up at Bane's invitation, and took her place at the podium. "Marines, I will not give you a pep talk about the importance of this mission, and I won't remind you of the risks," he said gravely. "I ask that you behave responsibly and act accordingly in executing out this mission. I commend you on your courage, and I expect to see you all back here the moment the offensive begins. As for you, 'Five-Eight', I expect to see you once the fleet reaches Herron. Good luck, and may God go with you."
Bane and Ross approached the pilots, and shook hands with each and every one of them. They then dismissed the 41st and 22nd, turned their attention to the 58th and 93rd. "Ladies and gentlemen," Ross began, "I wish to introduce the Duke of Wellington, and his aide, Captain Leland Eugene."
Ross gestured Wellington to take the floor. Wellington stood up, and slowly walked up to the podium. He then turned to face the pilots of the 58th and the 93rd as well as the ISSAPC crew. "Ladies and gentlemen," he began stoically, "thank you for volunteering for this escort duty. With any luck, this mission will be nothing more than a piece of cake. I pray to God that it will be so. At this point, I must ask that those of you who still have reservations about the upcoming mission to withdraw now, freely and unreservedly, and you may do so with honor."
The pilots of the 58th and the 93rd looked at each other, and stood their ground. West stepped forward. "It is an honor to serve with you, sir," he said. "My squadron and I will do our absolute best to ensure your safe arrival on Herron."
"The same goes for us, sir," added Bogdanis.
"Thank you very much, gentlemen," Wellington replied. "The final responsibility for this mission lies with me. I will be taking the same risks as you."
Wellington and Eugene proceeded to shake hands with those men and women who will escort them to Herron. They then left the briefing room with Bane and Ross. The 93rd also left the room, and proceeded to their quarters, leaving the 58th lounging about in the briefing room. West looked over his subordinates thoughtfully, and asked them to gather around him. "Okay, people," he began, "you all know the drill for missions like these. We were ordered to keep this compartmentalized. I won't be confining you to quarters, but try to minimize your contact with anyone who is not involved in this mission."
"That's right," Hawkes concurred. "There will be no after dinner drinks in the Tavern tonight, and no poker games with the gang. Got it?"
"Yes, sir," came the unison reply.
"I suggest you write letters to your families, and take care of your personal stuff," West said solemnly. "Hey Coop, that means McQueen, the Pagodins, and my parents."
Cooper raised his eyebrows in astonishment. It was the first verbal acknowledgment West had made about including him as a member of the family. "Okay, Nathan," he replied.
West approached Paxton, and placed his hand on the young lieutenant's shoulder. "Paxton, your chow is waiting for you in the mess hall," he said smilingly.
West then left the briefing room, and proceeded to his quarters. Hawkes gave his subordinates an uneasy smile, and left the room. The junior members of the 58th were a bit dumbstruck at what they had just seen. "The captain is right, Wally," said Morales teasingly. "Your chow is waiting for you."
"Who the hell can eat at a time like this?" Paxton retorted. "I just lost my damned appetite."
The pilots shared a restraint laugh, and slowly left the briefing room.
June 2, 2065. Office of the Fleet Deputy Commander, 13:43 hours.
Ross settled back in his chair, playing a few notes on his guitar. A knock on his door brought him back from his reverie, and he put away his beloved instrument. "Yes, enter."
Wellington entered the room, and closed the door behind him. He saluted Ross, who promptly returned it. "Have a seat, Brigadier," Ross offered.
"Thank you, Admiral," Wellington replied as he sat down.
"How kind of you to come, Wellington," Ross began, pouring a glass of whiskey for himself. "Would you like a drink?"
"No, thank you, sir. It's still too early for me."
"Suit yourself. It has been a long time since we last saw each other, Adam."
"Ixion seems eons ago," came the reply.
"Well, congratulations are in order for you."
"Eh?"
"You were promoted to Brigadier, assigned to Strategic Analysis, and succeeded to the Duchy of Wellington all in one year," Ross exclaimed. "Quite an accomplishment for a man in his early thirties."
"My current rank is only a wartime brevet status," Wellington stated humbly. "If I survive this war, I'll probably go back to my previous rank of colonel."
"Your promotions, be they temporary or permanent, are well deserved, Adam," Ross acknowledged with admiring praise. "You were at the right place and time. During the Ixion campaign, you brought pure joy to me when I received your message that the enemy's planetary batteries were neutralized."
"I did my part, sir, as did the others," came the stoic reply.
"Let us dispense with the formalities, here," Ross admonished. "My name is Glen."
"I find it a bit awkward to address a superior officer by his given name, sir," Wellington retorted. "Especially when seniority covers both rank and age."
"I have lost too many friends in this war, already. Making new friends is the only way I can deal with it."
"Understood, sir, er Glen."
"Speaking of friends, how is Colonel McQueen doing?"
"If I may be frank, he is none too happy about being stuck behind a desk in New York."
Ross laughed heartily at Wellington's response. "That's McQueen, all right."
Wellington leaned back in his chair, and looked inquisitively at Ross. "You didn't actually ask me here just to renew old acquaintances, did you, Glen?"
"No, I didn't," Ross replied. "Ty McQueen suggested that I should have a talk with you. Since we're being absolutely direct, why are you doing this?"
Wellington gave Ross a quizzical look. "I beg your pardon?"
"Why are you going to Herron, Adam?"
"Isn't it obvious? I am to assume command of the garrison there."
"Cut the nonsensical bullshit, Adam," Ross said sternly. "You can be absolutely frank with me."
"I know I could," Wellington retorted solemnly. "Ty said so himself. I don't know if I should."
"Compartmentalized and classified?"
"Perhaps, but I wasn't issued any such criteria of discretion."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"It means that I am as much in the dark as you are, Glen."
"I must be missing something here, Adam."
"Let me present you with the facts, and you produce your own hypothesis."
"Fair enough."
"Four months ago, I was assigned to Strategic Analysis," Wellington began. "I accepted the assignment since a promotion came along with it. Also, it allowed me to be close to my wife and son, but that is another story. On my arrival, we were charged with producing a viable plan for an offensive against the enemy. Unfortunately, all our efforts were in vain."
"Yes, you made that clear in our first meeting yesterday."
"Two months ago, Admiral Esposito divided Strategic Analysis into five separate teams," Wellington continued. "Each individual team, comprising of one SAU brass officer and a staff of analysts, was ordered to produce the blueprint for regaining the military initiative in this war. The Chiefs of Staff Committee issued separate criteria for each team, and ordered us to work independently and obliviously of each other."
"I see the logic to that approach," Ross conceded. "They want to be presented with various points of views."
"Let me get to the good part," Wellington retorted. "My team was given the mandate to come up with the most riskiest and audacious scenario for an offensive, one that would take place in the Elysian Theatre of Operations. We were ordered to be bold and imaginative."
"What was wrong with that?"
"The people who made up my team were not known for their boldness or imagination."
"I see."
"We decided to play it safe, and produced Plan Beta," Wellington added. "A month ago, the various teams submitted each of our respective plans to the Chiefs of Staff Committee. A week later, the powers that be approved plans Alpha and Beta. Two days later, I received word that Secretary-General Hayden personally approved Beta without any rational explanation as to why."
"Something is not right, here," Ross concluded. "That is an open invitation for military disaster."
"Correct," Wellington agreed. "Of our five teams, only two plans were approved; the most audacious and extreme opposite points of view. You could imagine our baffled surprise when we were informed of the decision by the Chiefs. I was flabbergasted. I did not think my plan would be the basis of our counter-offensive against the enemy. Such audacity goes against rational military logic."
"These two plans require the total cooperation of good luck," Ross stated seriously. "In my experience, you try not to rely totally on luck."
"Precisely," Wellington agreed. "Why were Alpha and Beta the only two plans for a counter-offensive? Either someone is hoping for a miracle, or courting a catastrophe."
"This is bigger than all of us put together, Adam," Ross said. "Have you made your suspicions known to anyone?"
"Only Admiral Esposito and General Al-Masoud when I was still in New York, General Westinghouse when he and I were on board the Agincourt, McQueen, and now you, Glen."
"Yes, Ty told me not to take you at face value. In the meetings, you were so passionate and zealous about the viability of Plan Beta, Adam," Ross observed. "You had me convinced of your unqualified faith in it. Now I know what McQueen was trying to say."
"I was ordered to sell this plan to the front line commanders," Wellington explained. "My orders were to convert them to my point of view. Plain and simple."
"That is why you're here at the front lines."
"The moment I heard of the decision, I personally lobbied Esposito for a field command."
"I don't think he was too happy by your decision, Adam."
"Not many people are happy at this decision, especially my wife," Wellington stressed.
Ross reached for the whiskey bottle, and poured Wellington a glass as well as refilling his own. "I'll drink to that anytime, Brigadier."
Next : In The Shadow Of Greatness - part 4 of 9
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