TEP Chpt 7

=The Eagle's Perch=
<<Previous Chapter - Return to Story Index - Next Chapter>>
-----
==Chapter 7 - WARNO==
----
===Bracing for the incoming Troops===
Marathon, Free Worlds League
2731 AD
----
Kelmens Humphries
We saw them coming before they arrived. Twelve BattleMech regiments and all their DropShips protected by a single fleet, came down the Cirebon Spine. They were three times the number of my Defenders of Andurien, and would have certainly laid waste to mine province were they to arrive.
 
Fortunately, they did not arrive whole. Boris' plan had borne fruit. The galactic east is secure, and the Capellans for once are quiet as the SLDF patrol our mutual borders. The loyalists fight on two galactic fronts, and a thousand planetary ones. In comparison, the rebel front to the galactic west is a solid wall. With that wall we shall fly into the heart of the loyalists like arrows from a fort. Regulus will fall.
----
An Emergence Signature was detected at the nadir of the Marathon system. An invading force of thirty-six DropShips had arrived. They burned for ten days to assault Marathon.
 
Hands folded behind my back, I stood on the hanging catwalk of the MechBay. I was waiting for my mech to be readied, distracting myself by observing the techs running around performing final checks on all the war machines. I spied Sudeesh approaching me to my right."Is the DropShip fleet out, Sudeesh?"
 
He gave me a snappy salute in his Andurien Greens, before answering. "Yes, sir. The DropShip fleet has been extracted from the system." The harsh clinical light highlighting his serious face.
 
I wasn't even going to bother contesting their navy. With only DropShips with them, I didn't need to worry about orbital bombardment. However, I did have to worry about leaving this rock. I can't risk my only means of joining the wider war just for a day of glory.
 
"Very good." Turning to face Sudeesh more fully, I continued. "It is likely the enemy intends for a spoiling attack. Our priority shall be the preservation of our combined forces."
 
He gave me another salute, "Yes, sir. If that's all, I'll be on my way."
 
Since I had no reason to keep him, I let go, watching as he went towards his own mech. We were lucky that the Marik Militia was tied up all along the Cirebon Spine. I had nearly emptied out Andurien of all its regiments for my campaign Coreward.
 
Boris was right again. The smaller provinces were joining in increasing numbers. Their combined weight acting as a quagmire, ensnaring any non-friendly forces that jump into their systems. Elise's pursuit of 'convincing' or creating friendly provincial regimes had created an anchor around her neck. Either she supports and defends them or she loses them, whether she wins this war or not.
 
We had no such restraints. We either win, or we all die. My brother, Martin, at the very least is away from all this awfulness. The family line will continue within the SLDF, even if it will not continue within Andurien.
 
An AsTech waved at me from below. "Your mech is ready, sir!" He hollered.
 
I thanked him as I made to climb in my mech. With the enemy having no clear objectives beyond delaying my attack, I had loaded up my cockpit with a sundry of supplies. Food, water, bandages, combat stims, and a men's magazine for what could be a long battle.
 
<<"Alert: Enemy fleet entering orbit within one thirty minutes.">>
 
I had ten days to prepare, and now there were none."Baron Rocksmith this is Duke Humphreys, do you hear me?" I asked. The local ruler was a young hotshot. A twenty-something year old, a decade and a half my younger.
 
"Yes, Lord Humphreys," She spat. "I can hear you." Coward, she left unsaid. She was still bitter at my fleet's evacuation.
 
I was very nearly through with her spite. "Must you continue this pettiness?" I demanded.
 
She huffed into her line before answering me, "I am only doing what is logically sound, Humphreys. The DropPort will be secure. End of discussion." A slamming sound punctuated the end of the call.
 
Sighing, I closed the line on my end. There was no way to make her listen to reason. The warships of both sides were tied up, dancing around each other and their charges. What was left were the DropShips of the navy, and they were terrible at anything beyond short actions.
 
A force composed entirely of DropShips and BattleMechs were not capable of conducting a sustained assault. They simply did not possess enough collective supplies to feed the modern military beast. Ultimately that meant the loyalists were here to raid, to disrupt, and to demoralize. Something anyone could see, except her.
 
<<"Alert: Enemy ASF firing upon the grav port.">>
 
Speaking of demoralize. I checked the tacmap to review our positions again. Baron Rocksmith evidently wants no part in cooperating against the raiders. That's fine. I still have my four Defenders of Andurien.
 
My first brigade garrisoned the western entrance of the capital city of Marathon, the rest of my forces were waiting at the other entrances at the city's cardinal directions. The main DropPort of Marathon was located in the east of the capital, where Rocksmith was.
 
Farmland on gently rolling hills surrounded the city. The countryside bereft of anything save farms and low villages. What trees there were, lined the roads or formed a bocage around the larger farms. There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide. Just the city and its ferrocrete to provide a stronghold.
 
Once the raid begins, we'll have to hold for seven days at the least. It roughly takes that much time to recharge from Marathon's G-class star. The nature of the conflict in the Cirebon Spine meant they wouldn't be receiving any reinforcements.
 
Neither will we.
 
<{Reactor Online. Sensors Online. Weapons Online. All Systems Nominal.}>
 
An excellent test for the battles ahead.
----
===Exhaustive Fighting among the Towers===
Roughly thirty DropShips hung in orbit, and six have landed. They acted as eyes, ears, and brains for the eight BattleMech regiments we were contending with for the past seven days. Thankfully, we were the defenders. We were garrisoned inside the city. We had the advantage.
 
"Air strike inbound!"
 
For as long as the glorious BattleMech was the only concern, we had nothing to fret. Shame about that. I have learned from Vanra that proper aero support is an incredible force multiplier, in the right hands. The lesson repeats itself here.
 
Like shooting stars, missiles from above crashed against my mech. At the city center, I had a panoramic view of the surrounding sky. I was on air defense duty, as of those from my regiment I possessed one of the few mechs capable of reaching out and swatting enemy ASF.
 
Standing on the roof of a five-story parking lot, I took aim at a lance of strafing Thunderbirds. "Have at thee!" I screamed. Three PPC bolts smashed into the body of one, and the pilot lost total control. It flew off behind me, threading through the skyscrapers, and crashed mightily into the suburbs. The explosion lightly polarized my ferro-glass. The rest of the lance dropped their bombs on the western combustion power plant, explosions slightly blending in the evening light.
 
A halo of war encircled the skies above the city. My ASF entangled with the enemy's in a deadly dance, doing what they could to keep them away. Tracers and missile fire raced across the sky. The anti-air tanks were working overtime, desperately plugging holes in the air defense network. Yet, the enemy kept breaking through.
 
"Alpha Charlie, this Papa Actual. Do you have a count on the enemy ASF strength? Over." There were far too many ASF being flown, then were normally attached to a BattleMech regiment.
 
It took a moment for Jennifer to reply, <<"The enemy has an estimated nine ASF wings in the air." Despite her stress, she took the time to enunciate clearly. "Intel suspects more are kept in orbit, possibly ten wings in total.">>
 
Then the loyalists were making full use of the central League's ASF industry. There is a reason why the League is known as the 'Gateway to the Stars'. It is because no one produces as much aerospace, voidcraft, sailors and pilots as us. In pure numbers, we have that edge over all the other great states, perhaps save the Hegemony.
 
Raising her voice, Jennifer continued, <<"Papa Actual, Intel stresses that enemy ASF is not the only aeroforce of concern. Unidentified VTOLs have been identified skirting the outer perimeter of our air defense network. Out.">>
 
VTOLs, glass cannons—sometimes without the cannon. Pests, to be dealt with after the ASF. Regardless, this position was revealed, thus no longer of further use. "Alright, time to pack up, sirs and mesdames." My command lance and ad hoc anti-air company gave their agreement, following after me.
 
This company had all the Mechs actually capable of shooting far enough to respond to ASF attacks. Unfortunately, half of these mechs sported AC/5s and LRMs, not PPCs. The relentless air assaults pressed against us had depleted half the stored ammunition. That half would have to return east and resupply to continue being useful.
 
Keying in my comms, I called the leader of the ammo dependent mechs. "Janice, take the ammo hogs back. We'll need you all topped up." Fortunately, due to his expert aim, Sudeesh's Orion was still good for the fighting ahead. My second would be staying with me.
 
"Yes, sir," She replied. "We'll be back in three hours." We came down to street level, the tall buildings hiding us in their shadow as we walked down the wide mega highways. We arrived at a park and split off, Janice taking half the company with her to the city's castle, Capitol, and shared base. I took my half of the company and jogged off through the park northwards to site C with the energy armed mechs.
 
Reviewing the tacmap I saw how nearly every one of my mech regiments were engaged. Only my own regiment was kept in reserve, garrisoning the eastern approach. I realized the enemy was avoiding the DropPort. Most likely, they saw a DropPort with two dug in mech regiments and their supporting forces as too difficult to make an attempt against.
 
Interrupting my thoughts, Sudeesh brought my attention to the tacmap. "Milord, it appears our engaged forces are rapidly depleting their ammunition reserves." The forward resupply depots have depleted almost all their AC/2, AC/5 and LRM ammunition. Fuel, parts, and ammunition for everything else appeared to be fine.
 
Not trusting the tacmaps quick status view, I winked thrice to bring up the detailed overview. "This isn't good, Sudeesh." I was distinctly displeased.
 
Ammunition expenditure was about average for an engagement like this. But, the heterogeneous nature of my forces meant that supplies were motley. The missiles were interchangeable between launch platforms, but some ammunition was incompatible despite being for the same autocannon class. Some mechs and auxiliary forces supply situations were in the green, some in the yellow, some cherry red. The ones in the red will hold for one more battle.
 
This was the problem with not having a concrete force plan and being forced to buy as the market dictates. Too many mech models and too many ammunition types, which in turn eats into supply storage availability. Not to mention the havoc it creates in interoperability within elements.
 
"Sir, I believe the enemy will rotate the engaged forces again soon. We should be prepared to intervene," Sudeesh advised.
 
I could not deny that logic, "And, when we do, we'll be more than ready for it!" I exclaimed, trying to keep morale high. While no one else was listening in, Sudeesh's demeanor would certainly clue the rest in. No matter how tired I was, a Duke could not be seen as weak or ailing. Perish the thought!
 
 Suddenly, Ana screamed down the comm net, "They're rotating! Three mech regiments moving towards the Western entrance. Four hours out."
 
I cut in immediately, "First regiment moving to reinforce you." Ana couldn't hold on her own against three mech regiments. Everyone else would be fine dealing with their one. Even with the enemy's air superiority. Though, a niggling in my mind did remind me of something. "Janice, this Klemens, I need you to stay at the castle. Keep an eye out for VTOLs, they might make a play."
 
A beep and a light confirmed a strong clear line, "Wilco. Out." Was her laconic reply. With her at the castle, she could defend our base, and if necessary, rapidly reinforce Baron Rocksmith further east.
 
A key press brought up the brigade comms, "First brigade this is Papa Actual, reform at the Site Oh. Roll west. Dancer, three walker regiments. Bring Supper. Out." A series of affirmations followed after.
 
The whole combined arms brigade reformed into formation and marched down the western mega highway. The sky was blessedly empty for the time being. The violent aerial furballs ceased as the majority of fighters returned to their respective bases to refuel and rearm.
 
It was an hour-long march before we arrived at Ana's rear lines. My pocked marked mech came up to a ruined megamarket complex large enough to house a mech company and more. A large hole distinguished it from the surrounding buildings, the result of a stray bomb. The frenetic activity around it told a different story. There was a constant movement of vehicles, technicians, and mechs to rearm, rearmor, and repair Ana's full brigade.
 
Inside, I found Ana stepping away from a mech cradle, her Emperor newly refurbished and ready for war. "It seemed like you were having quite the day, so I brought some presents for you." I teased.
 
Scoffing, Ana barked back, "Quite the day! More like a week! Old man, need I remind you some of us aren't built just for war like you." She took a deep breath before going on, "Thanks for the supplies, though."
 
"It's what I'm supposed to do." I smiled.
 
As my brigade quietly integrated and reinforced her lines, we made some companionable small talk. When we got around to the meat of the conservation and started comparing kill numbers, a deep booming sounded out through the air. It was darkly familiar.
 
"Is that what I think it is?" Ana whispered. A quick check through the sound library confirmed my worst fears.
 
"It is. Long Toms are in play," I uttered solemnly. An ASF was a precise weapon. I paid no mind to its use, even if they unfortunately missed. But an artillery piece like the Long Tom was comparatively indiscriminate. Whenever it was put to use against a city, whole districts were wrecked within an hour.
 
"The castle?" Ana blurted out.
 
After so long together, I could see where the thread of her thoughts were going. "It's safe Ana. Janice and the HQ teams are garrisoned inside. The Baron is at the DropPort a few hours away," I reassured her. She was right to think of the castle, it was the most logical and acceptable target for Long Toms. "And, if Janice needs anything, she'll radio us all. Don't worry." 
 
The local castle was well-made. It was made with thick ferrocrete walls, and deep underground complexes were hidden beneath with power, water, and hydroponic gardens to complete its defenses. There was genuinely very little to worry about.
 
Like a miniature Castle Brian, it was a proper castle for the modern age.
 
Time had passed, with the proclamations of the Long Toms punctuating a rising tenseness. No one liked hearing artillery do their bloody work against them. Even less so when waiting for an assault to come. And, come, it did. Upon another megamarket, I stared past the wheat fields to the hills beyond. I heard them coming through my radar.
 
A wall of mechs crested the hills at a run, the final rays of twilight chasing after them. They were too far away to shoot with any accuracy, so no one shot. We waited in anxiety for the battle to begin.
 
Another set of artillery thundered again. It was not the distinct lingering basso of the Long Toms. No, it was the thumping of the sounds' namesake, Thumpers. I took my lance and walked down, taking cover within the megamarket. We all knew what was coming next.
 
The skin of my mech insulated me against the outside world, the megamarket compounded that, protecting me from the worst of the explosions. Sudden flashes and whirling winds tossed the world around me, while I stayed still as a statue. The sheer carnage was juxtaposed against the steady rhythm of my heartbeat. It was a cerebral experience to witness an artillery barrage fall around you, while safe and secure.
 
The second the barrage ended, a new one began. This time it wasn't explosives, but smoke rounds to obscure the fields before the city. The brigades jumped out of their hiding holes to see a wall of white, obscuring the charging BattleMechs.
 
My part of the battle began when a mech leaped through the white walls into the city outskirts. A Victor ran down the street, murder on its mind. It spotted us almost immediately, and chose to charge. On the megamarket's roof, my demi-company and I could see him, followed by more Victors and a single Pillager. Immediately, we began firing.
 
Three of my PPC bolts flashed out and slammed the first Victor in the chest. There was no cover to hide behind, it was a shooting gallery for all intents and purposes. All the Victor had was armor and bloody minded determination to keep their momentum rushing forward.
 
Two more shots caved in the center torso, the Victor slammed into the ground. Uncaring, his comrades continued forward, and my world became a blur.
 
Three. Two. Three. Two. Three. That was what my world had been reduced to for a scant few minutes. The constant staccato cracks of PPCs ripping apart thought and my enemies.
 
One lance became two, and two became three. Eventually, someone got smart, because Aero Command smashed apart my trance, "--large enemy air strike in-bound to your position, Lord Humphreys. Please evacuate ASAP. Out."
 
I complied immediately, "Everyone off the roof. Airstrike in-bound." I ordered my demi-company. After removing ourselves to a safe distance, the complex we were using was bombed into oblivion. The ASF responsibly made a hard turn south, fleeing return fire and the returning friendly ASF hot on their trails.
 
Two blobs on the air tacmap rose from their respective air bases and crashed into each other south-west of the city. We continued to move down the mega highway towards a secondary site deeper within the city, a raised ferrocrete plaza. Another barrage of smoke shells followed after us, obscuring vision down the streets.
 
I saw a friendly strongpoint as we made our way deeper inside. Infantry and a company of Von Luckner tanks were thoroughly dug into the sides of the highway, holding position. I gave them a one-armed mech salute as we passed by.
 
They would be a nasty surprise for our enemies.
 
Janice chose that moment to break in and surprise me. (("Papa Actual this is Papa two-two, the enemy is moving to attack the fortress with a large force of conventional ground arms. Six regiments total. Baron Rocksmith's brigade is moving to assist. Out."))
 
Then who's defending the DropPort?!
 
With VTOLs in use, all the enemy needed was a small window of opportunity to drop special forces in our collective rear. "Baron Rocksmith, this Duke Hupmhreys, come in over." I announced over the command line. Dead air was the only reply. "Baron Rocksmith, I demand you speak to me now!"
 
Nothing.
 
I was aghast. The sounds of fighting around me became closer with each passing second. The trickle that was my demi-company had become an organized retreat, as An's and my brigade pulled back from the city's outskirts. Now, I have two problems to deal with. A rogue commander and an attack by three mech regiments with support.
A Thunderbolt turned the nearby left corner down the mega highway and was immediately beset by the checkpoint's Von Luckners. Four blasts ripped away, and the MechWarrior dodged back into the left side roads, hiding behind the skyscrapers.
 
Further down the mega highway, a Highlander walked out of the thick smoke. The death knell of its gauss rifle cracking out, missing me by a mere meter. A wave of missiles followed, arcing up and down onto me.
 
The explosions rocked me slightly, but I didn't miss my shots. Three bolts of lighting tagged the beast across its chest and arms. Unfortunately, the gauss rifle was still operational. More lances of heavy mechs appeared then, and the whole plaza was engulfed in battle.
 
I pulled away from the edge of the raised plaza to make myself a smaller target. Meanwhile, my opponent took to the right and hid behind the corner of a skyscraper. Quickly changing tactics, I alternated firing from each of my PPCs, firing one after another as soon as they were charged. Inaccurate return fire from the Highlander's gauss rifle gave word to my foe's displeasure.
 
Two Warhammers came out another street on the left and I switched targets, pumping one of them with two shots to the left arm. To my right, Sudeesh saw the opportunity presented and took the chance. Both his LRM-15 and AC/10 spat out, ripping the Warhammer's arm off.
 
"That's it, my LRMs are empty," Sudeesh vented. I hadn't noticed how much he was expending since the battle began. Then three PPC bolts smashed into Sudeesh's Orion in reply. The HUD showing his happy green torso armor was now a sickly yellow. Cursing, wounded and missing half his ranged firepower, Sudeesh began to walk his mech further back, no longer capable of standing in the line.
 
But, before he could finish, a gauss rifle round tore through his center. He unceremoniously toppled over backwards onto the ground, before being rained upon by missiles. I immediately returned fire against the two mechs. Both the Warhammers were hit, the most injured quietly retreated from the fight.
 
I had to have faith in my machines and equipment. If there was no light and sound signaling Sudeesh or his mech's demise. Then they were not dead.
 
A lucky gauss rifle round smashed my left shoulder, just as two PPC bolts hit the plaza itself. While I was fighting for my life, the radio crackled in, "Two Airstrikes in-bound, one from or—" Then cut off and turned into a garbled crackling mess.
 
I turned all of my attention to the Warhammer and let loose another barrage. With all three hitting, the Warhammer's armor was too thin to continue to participate. Another shot from the Highlander hit me in the right torso. The readout showed my right torso PPC as black. Dead and no longer of further use.
 
Taking aim against the Highlander, I was interrupted by a screech of fusion engines. The enemy's Thunderbirds had returned and launched hails of missiles against us, before dropping their attached bombs.
For a brief second, the world was awash with fire and ash. One landed too close and staggered me backwards. Just as quickly as it happened, it ended. The Thunderbirds ran back with their tails between their legs as another squadron of ASF chased after them.
 
The brief peace was interrupted by Jennifer clearing the interference and broadcasting again, "—hey've taken the grav port. Enemy reinforcements are landing two Unions now." As if to accentuate that point, the darkness of the early night highlighted the streaks of light falling from above.
 
I had to trust that awful loose cannon. We were too far to participate in that part of the battle, and too busy fighting. Another snap of the Highlander's gauss rifle, and a round too close to my cockpit passed by. Breathing out, I took aim once again.
 
Night had freshly fallen and the crack-hiss of my lighting raced down the street. A small sun was born then. The gauss rifle had been tagged twice more, and the delicate capacitors released their immense energies. The Highlander fell away from my sight. The darkness of the night and the bulk of the skyscraper hiding his form.
 
With no other mechs left to fight, I pulled fully back from the edge and kneeled my form down. For now, I was 'hidden'. "Sudeesh, are you alright?" I asked, panting from the stress of battle.
 
"Alive, sir… I might have a concussion," was his shaky reply. "Forgive me, it seems I can't keep up." He apologized.
 
"That's alright," I said, what else could I do but forgive him immediately. His defeat and current state was not the fault of his—from lacking in mettle. "Just focus on staying awake. I've lased a rescue team. They'll set you right as rain."
The battle here was clearly dying out. Sporadic firing lit up the night, but not with the intensity of before. It was enough for the supporting arms to breathe a sigh of relief. A small APC came behind me with a hoist and some medics.
 
I briefly watched as they worked the emergency hatch and began extracting Sudeesh, before standing again and returning to my post. The smoke from before had cleared, and I saw there was no one there. The mega highway was clear, and only the pockmarks in the skyscrapers ferrocrete gave evidence of a furious battle.
 
<<"Papa Actual this is Alpha Charlie. DropPort has been re-secured. The enemy is falling back.">> The news Jennifer gave was rather welcome.
----
===The Tough Decisions===
I sat down with my commanders, and Janice, at Baron Rocksmith's castle. Terrible as our relations were, she was still a good host. All rights and courtesies as guests and allies were observed. Her pride as a noble would allow no less.
 
I took a sip of my coffee, admiring the frescoes before starting the meeting, "Alright. First things first, how did we lose the DropPort?" Looking at the tired faces of my warriors.
 
Though directed at no one, Janice picked up the question. "Rocksmith left a token force of infantry and vees. They along with the DropPorts security force would have been enough for a conventional battalion."
 
"There's a 'but' there," I interrupted.
 
"Yes, sir," She agreed. My commanders looked on curiously at her continuing testimony. "One company of mechs from before rotated in as a distraction with some conventional support. They held the defender's attention for roughly ten minutes. The enemy's Ripper VTOLs hugged the nape of the earth and slipped in."
 
"I assume they were carrying special forces."
 
Nodding her head in agreement, she proceeded with the review, "Yes, sir. The special forces took the aeroport. As all fighters were scrambled and fighting, no one could respond. From there, Cobras slipped in and dropped some foot sloggers. They took the fight to the DropPort from above and through the underground tunnels, the flying Cyranos and Nightshades VTOLs providing support."
 
Nightshades were E-Warfare specialists. After a hundred years since their initial introduction, they've become very good at their craft. A flight of them would explain the brief interruption in radio communications, and how they slipped in.
 
Janice took a sip of her coffee before continuing, "The foot sloggers succeeded in breaching the central control room, and took control of the facilities remote systems. When that happened, Baron Rocksmith finished up clobbering the regiments assaulting her castle, and raced back to the DropPort at full speed. The loyalist's brief control of the facility allowed two Unions to land and disgorge two mech lances and a plethora of engineering teams. The mechs and infantry held off the defender's response. By the time Rocksmith got back, the loyalists packed up and left."
 
"Thank you, Janice," I told her.
 
At least that part of the story revealed something. The DropPort was a mess when I looked at it. All the delicate, specialized facilities and equipment for handling multiple DropShips at speed were blown to kingdom come. What would normally take a few hours of loading or unloading DropShips and their passengers would now take half a day or more. For brigades, whole days would disappear from the timetable due to the sheer inefficiency.
 
The timetable can handle some delay. It was built in during planning. But, it still hurts to be so delayed in joining the wider war. Alas, there was nothing that could be done about it. Sighing, I took another sip from my cup. "Anything else to add."
 
My chief of logistics, Gilbert, raised his hand, "I've got one boss. Soon as we're done with this mess, we need to consolidate our equipment." An unsurprising argument coming from a man for logistics. "We've seen, time and again, how hard it is to keep everyone topped up and operational when we have limited space and tonnage. We ought to just go down to a handful of mechs and such. Maybe even go all in on energy boats."
 
Rachel clicked her tongue at that and crossed her arms. "Not. Happening," she retorted tersely. "We need the performance of the kinetics. Especially the versatility of the missiles. No amount of good supplies will be equal to not dying."
 
"And ye'd be just as dead wit'out 'em!" Gilbert shouted passionately while waving his hands.
 
"Enough!" I roared, slapping the desk hard. I glared down the two into compliance before calmly getting back on topic. "Will we have enough supplies for the thrust to Regulus?"
 
"Radford agrees," murmured Gilbert. Then more clearly he answered, "Aye, sir. We'll hold. Especially if we resupply on the way."
 
"Very good, Gilbert," I said, congratulating him. He was responsible for planning how much to bring.
 
Ana took the opportunity to add her own subject, "There is another matter outside the war, sir."
 
Curious, I asked, "What could that be, Ana?"
 
"The bombings and artillery have caused a small humanitarian crisis. There's no power, no sewage treatment, and many of the people's homes have been destroyed."
 
Ah. There was that. "Can we maintain our timetable, were we to aid them?"
 
"I don't think so, sir. It looks like this will require something more long term," Ana apologetically replied. "We could leave some supplies behind. That would help." A brief look to my logistics chief, however, told me he wasn't happy with that.
 
Another disappointment. "I'm afraid we can't help them, Ana. I'm sorry," I explained, folding my hands atop the table.
 
"It's not me you'll have to apologize to, sir." At my quizzical look, Ana clarified, "It's to the Baron that you'll have to apologize. It's her world that got wrecked."
 
If I wasn't her enemy before, I am most certainly now. "I'll get to that later, Ana." I ended the meeting by standing and addressing my people, "Thank you, all, for your good work. Let's wrap this up here and get some rest. We have a long road of fighting ahead."
-----
<<Previous Chapter - Return to Story Index - Next Chapter>>
07, Chapter