Virtues of War (43 page)

Whatever the reason, she wasn’t going to speak up.

On the training ground below, Rao was leading his troops right into the trap. On the sim panel, Katja could see the snipers in the upper windows of the street and the fortified defenders behind the double doors. She frowned, and gripped her belt restlessly. This wasn’t going to be pretty.

Just as Fifth Platoon blew open the double doors, the snipers opened fire from above. The leading troopers through the doors were mowed down by the defenders. Shouts echoed up from the training ground over the clatter of scrambling bodies, while in the sim world Fifth Platoon charged aggressively into the guns of the defenders. With overwhelming firepower they took out the defenders inside the building.

Chang’s rear guard lobbed grenades into every window in the street, taking out the snipers with deadly—and completely excessive—use of force.

Not good enough. She leaned over to the sim operator. “Sergeant, upgrade the snipers to rocket snipers, here and in the next street. And double the number of APRs.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

There were thirty units vying for training on this same simulation ground—Levantine Regiment alone had six troops of infantry, and each troop had five platoons. That meant more than fifteen hundred troopers trying to get training on this same simulation ground. Even with each scenario limited to an hour, each platoon got less than one combat training session per day.

Every scenario had to push them to the max.

The platoon regrouped beyond the double doors. Katja listened on the command circuit as Rao gave instructions to watch for snipers.

Good. She nodded to herself.

Chang and the reserves cleared the second story, taking out two of the newly added rocket snipers. That provoked hostile fire from the other snipers across the street, but Chang moved quickly to clear the blast zones and return fire effectively.

The operator glanced up at her. “Would you like me to add some more snipers, ma’am?”

She shook her head. The lesson had been learned.

Behind her, five troopers pulled themselves onto the gondola—the ones who had been killed in the initial ambush. They glanced at her with varying degrees of sheepishness. She motioned for them to spread out and watch the simulation. Even if they couldn’t participate, they could still learn.

Below, the platoon advanced cautiously, using proper cover procedures to watch all the windows in the street. Katja glanced at the display to where the APRs were rolling forward. She didn’t need to access the helmet cam displays—she knew very well what advancing APRs looked like.

Full data downloads had been delivered to Command, revealing the events from combat on Cerberus. Katja cringed when she envisioned all of the senior officers, and then all of the troopers, examining her every move in combat.

She, too, had reviewed the scenarios in Free Lhasa and Thapa’s farm, gone over them minutely, and thought about how she could have done things better. Thomas had once said to her that a strike officer learned or died.

Well, she wasn’t dead yet, so hopefully she could still learn.

She had expected pitying stares from the senior platoon leaders, yet those hadn’t materialized. In fact, she’d noticed a change in attitude from just about everyone. Scott Lahko was still full of his own bravado, but his gentle needling had been replaced by requests for her tactical advice. The other Saracen officers, all of whom were older and had served longer than she, similarly sought her opinions after each of their platoon exercises.

She supposed it was just that she was the latest officer to see actual combat. Once everyone got over that, and really looked at her success rate, she doubted she would be sought after for advice.

Her first strike on Thapa’s farm had been a waste of time and had resulted in civilian casualties. With the second strike on the farm, she had walked into an ambush. Her boarding of the
Astrid
had produced no hard evidence, and provoked a Centauri stealth attack. Her crazy boarding of the Centauri battle cruiser had killed half her strike team.

Her command of Fifth Platoon had led to huge casualties, and surrender. If not for the rescue, she’d now be a human public toilet in the central square of Free Lhasa.

And her one mission that might actually be considered a “success”—the rescue of the hostages—had provoked Centauria to declare war on Terra.

What would her father think? Army and Astral Force didn’t talk much, but Storm Banner Leader Emmes knew plenty of well-placed Astral personnel.

As she stood quietly behind the simulation operators, towered over by her “dead” troopers, Katja suddenly fought to suppress tears. Her father was respected in both armed services, and rightfully so. As for her…

Thomas Kane had proved himself a hero by saving his crew and risking his own life to save his ship. That kid, Jack Mallory, had single-handedly destroyed a stealth ship and discovered the Centauri jump gate. Even that slut Breeze had proved her worth by finding the hostages in Free Lhasa, and arranging to rescue Katja.

All Katja had done was get a lot of people killed and start a war.

Not now
, she thought, and she shook her head. A few muttered comments from the troopers on the gondola focused her on the display again.

The platoon was advancing down APR lane, moving cautiously, still unaware of the impending threat. She began to regret her decision to increase the number of APRs—slaughtering her platoon would do little to increase experience or morale.

Then she noticed movement to one side as someone in simple coveralls—rather than full training gear—pulled up onto the simulator platform. She immediately recognized Commander Vici and felt her stomach tighten. Her platoon was about to get wiped out, and the troop commander had come along to see it.

Katja turned to face her, hopefully distracting her from the action below. “Lieutenant Emmes and Fifth Platoon on exercise, ma’am.”

But Vici looked right past her at the display. The lead squads were just about to discover the APRs.

“I know who you are, Emmes. That looks like a few more APRs than the scenario called for.” Vici glanced at her. “Trying to make heroes of your troopers?”

She felt her cheeks flush. “No, ma’am. I… just know how little time we have to train.”

Shouts from the training ground saved her from having to continue her explanation. The platoon had spotted the APRs, and vice versa. On the deck below, troopers dove for cover and pointed empty rifles at open air. On the display in front of her, a bloody battle played itself out. The sergeants stayed cool on the circuit, deep voices trying to keep the platoon united in purpose, even as they scattered for cover.

Wild shots filled the virtual air.

Then a single voice barked from the deck, clearly audible over the clatter of armored bodies. It was Trooper Sakiyama, forsaking comms and shouting instructions to everyone near him.

“Use grenades on the weapons pods! The armor’s too thick!”

Under his direction, one squad focused their fire on the lead APR’s vulnerable points, disabling it in seconds. They then switched target and took down the second APR in a similar fashion. Even as simulated fire rained down on them, and troopers dropped to the deck as casualties, Fifth Platoon picked up on the tactic and began to systematically pick off the lumbering Centauri robots.

Katja felt a smile tug at her lips. The bastards had been paying attention after all. Her eyes fixated on the display, and she almost missed Vici’s comment.

“Looks like Sakiyama reviewed his combat log from Cerberus.”

“Ma’am?”

“On that raid, he wasted most of his grenades against APR armor, until you set the example for him.”

Katja remembered the incident well. She just had trouble believing that Vici grasped it so clearly, having nothing to go on but frantically shifting helmet cams.

“Yes, ma’am.”

Vici gave her a hard stare, but there was a subtlety in the look that Katja didn’t recognize.

“Emmes, tomorrow the EF is sending a Hawk to recce out Centauria’s homeworld. As the Saracens have been designated to lead the first wave, the colonel has asked me to go along as the brigade’s eyes. I’d like you to come as my second opinion.”

Katja was stunned. Surely the first lieutenant should go, or one of the other troop commanders. But Commander Vici had asked her, and was now waiting for her answer.

“Of course, ma’am. Thank you.”

Vici glanced again at the simulation display, where Fifth Platoon was advancing cautiously on the wreckage of the APRs.

“Sergeant, amend the scenario to mimic the Fifth Platoon run,” she instructed. “If they can do it, and against those odds, so can everyone else.”

The simulation operator made a note. “Yes, ma’am.”

She pushed off the console and glided away.

Katja felt her smile growing, but pushed it down under the mask of command. Her father might consider her worthless, and Thomas Kane might use her like a whore, but here among the Saracens—in the Corps—she was appreciated.

R
apier
was still too broken to fly. Ever since the decision had been made to invade the Centauri homeworld, all maintenance attention had been focused on
Normandy
’s one hundred strike fighters. The mechanics had been doing their best, but parts had been prioritized for those fast-attack craft that were still operational, pushing
Rapier
even further down the priority list.

And Thomas had other concerns. He’d always thought that his time in command would be the surest way to get ahead, but being a staff officer in Chandler’s command team was arguably even better.

As an FAC captain, he was just one of nine. Current circumstances had reduced them to executing routine combat patrols for the Fleet. Even though he had received a Distinguished Conduct Medal for his little maneuver at the Battle of Laika, such duties were all but invisible.

However, as the anti-vessel warfare controller, he had a chance to prove himself in a role that was billeted for a commander. Although it hadn’t been his intention to be given the position—not under these circumstances—fortune seemed to be favoring him.

He took his seat at the command console on
Normandy
’s bridge, feeling a new sense of self-confidence in this crowd of mostly senior officers. The other two controllers nodded greetings to him. Commander Erikson gave him a glance bereft of warmth. Colonel Korolev and all five of his troop commanders hovered around the console—a concentration of senior officers that was rare.

Breeze rushed in moments before the scheduled start time, quickly uploading some data. Thomas tried to not watch her movements, but even strapped into his seat he found himself rising to the occasion. He hated himself for it, but his thoughts often wandered back to the memory of their hour together in his cabin. She’d certainly enjoyed it, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she might be up for an encore.

He shook his head sharply and forced himself to look away, reminding himself that he was marrying another woman when they got home.

If they got home.

Erikson activated the large, central display, causing representations of Centauria’s twin suns to appear, along with the five planets that circled each. A cluster of blue symbols far below the system’s ecliptic indicated the position of the Expeditionary Force as it transited slowly and silently toward its target.

That target was the third planet circling the yellow orb of Centauria A—the homeworld of the enemy. All the planets of the Centauri system had been named after minor Roman deities—the last to follow the ancient Earth tradition of naming planets from that pantheon. Some were a bit strange, such as Pax, the goddess of peace, and Spes, the goddess of hope. How poetic, then, that the Centauri homeworld—the first planet settled by humans outside the original solar system—was named for Abeona, the protector of children leaving the home.

Today’s briefing was a planning meeting for the Terran invasion of Abeona.

Thomas still harbored serious doubts as to the EF’s ability to strike so deep into hostile territory. And to his way of thinking, a surprise attack on civilian targets wasn’t the most honorable of actions. He didn’t know much about Centauri culture, but from what he’d picked up over the years, he didn’t think of them as a particularly warlike people. Outspoken and ambitious, for certain, but hardly aggressive.

Chandler arrived at his usual time, precisely thirty seconds after the briefing was scheduled to start. Thomas still hadn’t figured out if it was his intention to allow a few moments grace for latecomers to slip in before him, or if he just wanted to make everyone wait because he could.

He greeted Korolev and took his seat.

Erikson pushed up from his seat and spoke. “Commodore, Brigade Colonel, ladies and gentlemen. The attack on Abeona will proceed on schedule. All units have reported ready for combat, and we remain undetected with forty hours to go.

“We’ve selected the three largest cities as our primary targets, one brigade assigned to each. They’re relatively small—back in Terra, they’d hardly be called ‘cities.’ Other human settlements also are small, and scattered widely across the surface of the planet. The Centauri obsession with environmentalism has imposed growth restrictions on their settlements.

“This unfortunately denies us a single, high-profile target. However, their environmentalism also means a complete lack of permanent transport infrastructure between the many settlements, which will make it more difficult to transfer reinforcements, and should provide us with at least twelve hours where our forces are fighting only the local defenses. That said, Centauri surface weapons are high-tech and survivable.

“Tomorrow morning I’ll be leading a recce mission in a single Hawk, to assess enemy defensive capabilities. This mission will risk exposing our presence, but the information gathered will be invaluable to the operation.”

“Will the Hawk have fighter support?” Korolev asked.

“No, sir. She’ll be doing a close orbit of Abeona, and will be tracked by the Centauri traffic system. There’s no way to hide a fighter flying in close to the planet, and two small vessels in formation would be a dead giveaway. In order to get the Hawk that close she has to go solo.”