Carnifex

19/1/468 AC, BdL Dos Lindas

"Security and Economy of Force are principles of war, Captain-san," Kurita intoned. "Defense is not."

Fosa paced the rounds of his bridge nervously. Indeed, he grew more nervous the closer the Dos Lindas approached to shore and the possibility of land-based cruise missiles, torpedoes, or suicide boats. The FSN had been clear that an attack on the fleet was being prepared. Sadly, they could not provide the first clue as to its nature.

"I know that, Commodore. And I know we have to do this. Hell, it was my idea. But I still hate the idea of getting closer to a threat I don't know the nature of."

Resuming his pacing, Fosa took all of three steps before he stopped and turned. Facing the Yamatan over one shoulder he observed, "You're taking this all very calmly."

"I was captain, Battlecruiser Öishi," was Kurita's only, and completely sufficient, response.

Fosa grunted while Kurita turned his attention back to the contemplation of the eternal beauty of the sea at moments before action.

It was several hours before sunrise. Only one of Terra Nova's three moons shone. In the relative darkness, the sea twinkled with thousands of stars. Kurita amused himself with the notion that the stars were his old shipmates, come to watch him in action before he joined them at the Yasukuni shrine which had been dismantled and sent spaceward from Old Earth so many centuries ago.

Above the winking sea, the Dos Lindas cruised under half power toward the shore. The carrier was blacked out, with not even deck lights showing. Crewmen, who would normally be allowed to smoke on portions of the flight deck were instead confined to air- and light-tight compartments before they could indulge their vile habit.

On deck every functioning Yakamov helicopter sat with engines idling. Forward of them were a baker's dozen of Cricket Bs, the upengined and expanded variant of the Legion's standard recon aircraft. Between the Crickets and the choppers sat four Turbo-Finches with light ordnance loads of about one ton each. None of the aerial troop carriers had more than their crews aboard.

The Cazadors were going in under strength. One half of one of the eight line platoons was detached to The Big ?, though they'd be nearby at sea and could land by rubber boat if needed. Another two platoons were split up among various Yamatan and Haarlemer freighters. Still, with the headquarters and support troops that were going to land, there were just over two hundred Cazadors in the landing force. These waited below, in the hangar deck, playing cards, sleeping, or sneaking off for a quick cigarette as the mood took them.