War Of Honor

Chapter Thirty Three

"So, Senator McGwire. What, in your opinion, does the President's speech really mean for our relations with the Manties?"

Thomas Theisman tipped back his chair at the head of the enormous table in the New Octagon conference room as Roland Henneman's deep-voiced question rolled from the HD mounted above the table.

Henneman had been an employee of the now defunct Office of Public Information for the better part of four standard decades. He'd begun in the usual way, working as a writer, and then as a reporter. Like all reporters in the People's Republic of Haven, he'd been very careful about what he reported, but he was a handsome man, with a resonant baritone voice and a reassuring manner. As such, he'd soon found his way to a larger and more visible role, and for the last five T-years of the People's Republic's existence, he'd hosted a daily talk show on HD here in the capital.

But PubIn had been thoroughly discredited in the eyes of the PRH's citizens. Universally recognized as no more than the Committee of Public Safety's propaganda mouthpiece, no one had trusted it. It had, in fact, been seen as one of the emblems of the discredited governments of the past, and its elimination had been one of Eloise Pritchart's first priorities as President. Which meant that, like all of his fellow employees, Henneman had found himself abruptly out of a job.

Fortunately for him, the new administration had disposed of PubIn's massive holdings in broadcast facilities and equipment at rock bottom prices as a part of its media privatization drive. Although Henneman had been no more than modestly wealthy by the standards of the pre-Committee of Public Safety Legislaturalists, he'd managed to amass sufficient wealth under Rob Pierre to put him in position to organize a bidding cartel. He'd mortgaged himself to the hilt, even taking full advantage of the low-interest loan programs the Pritchart Administration had made available, but he and his colleagues had been able to acquire more than enough of PubIn's old infrastructure to emerge as a power in the fledgling private broadcast industry.

Henneman's own visibility during the heady days of PubIn's monopoly of the airwaves had paid another sort of dividend when it came to finding programming to fill his new network's broadcast schedule. He continued to host his daily talk show, although the blend of topics it examined had acquired a new, eclectic balance (and a harder edge) that PubIn would never have permitted. In addition, however, he produced, directed, and anchored The Henneman Hour, a political analysis and commentary program which aired every weekend.

In Theisman's opinion, Henneman remained more of a showman than a brilliant political analyst. But the Secretary of War had to admit that, whatever his shortcomings in that role, Henneman was probably the closest thing to it that the resurrected Republic had so far managed to produce. It never ceased to amuse Theisman when he reflected on the total disappearance of the "analysts" who had once served Public Information. One or two of them had actually found niches as producers on the programs which featured their replacements, but most of them had simply vanished into total obscurity. Not because of any deliberate purge on the part of the new government, but simply because they were supremely unsuited to the new political matrix. Most of them had excelled at delivering the "analysis" which PubIn had wanted delivered. Very few of them had possessed the skill, the tools, or the backbone to dig into questions of public policy and report things the government might not want reported.

Henneman, at least, didn't have that particular problem, and Theisman had deliberately scheduled this meeting so that all of its participants could watch this interview with him.

"Well, Roland," Senator McGwire replied now, "that's a complicated question. I mean, while the President and Secretary Giancola have, of course, consulted with Congress all along, the entire situation where the Manticorans are concerned has been in something of a state of flux ever since the collapse of the Committee of Public Safety."

"Don't you mean, Senator, that the Manties have persistently refused to negotiate seriously with us? Or, for that matter, that they've systematically rejected, ridiculed, or ignored every proposal our negotiators have made?"

Theisman winced internally. Henneman hadn't raised his voice, and his expression remained courteously attentive, but that only lent his questions even more weight.

And that, the Secretary of War thought unhappily, is because he isn't saying anything a surprisingly large percentage of the electorate hasn't already thought.

"I don't think I'd put it in quite those terms myself, Roland," McGwire reproved mildly. "Certainly, the negotiations have dragged on far longer than anyone might have anticipated. And I would have to admit that it's often seemed to me, as to many of my colleagues in the Congress and, especially, on the Foreign Affairs Committee, that Prime Minister High Ridge and his government have preferred for them to do so. So I suppose I would have to agree with you that the Star Kingdom has declined to negotiate in what we might consider a serious or timely fashion. But I assure you that they have not 'ridiculed' our negotiators or the Republic."

"I think we're going to have to agree to disagree—respectfully, of course—about the exact verb we want to use for what they have done in that case, Senator," Henneman said after a moment. "But you would agree with me that the practical effect has been a complete deadlock?"

"I'm afraid I'd have to say yes," McGwire agreed, nodding regretfully. "In particular, I would have to acknowledge that it doesn't seem to me, both as an individual and as Chairman of the Foreign Affairs Committee, that the present Manticoran government has any interest whatsoever in restoring the occupied systems of the Republic to our control."

One of the other officers in the conference room inhaled sharply, and Theisman bestowed a wintery smile on the HD. He couldn't really say McGwire's pronouncement came as a surprise, but it was one the senator had been careful not to make publicly before Pritchart's speech.

"You believe that they intend to keep all of those systems permanently? Like Trevor's Star?" Henneman asked intently, and McGwire shrugged.

"In fairness to the Manticorans, Trevor's Star is something of a special case," he pointed out. "Given the brutality with which Internal Security and State Security operated on San Martin, I would have to say I don't find it surprising that the San Martinos should desire a complete break with the Republic, despite all of our reforms. At the same time, Trevor's Star is one terminus of the Manticorans' wormhole junction, and the Star Kingdom no doubt has a legitimate interest in maintaining its security. I don't say I'm happy by the precedent the star system's annexation represents. If it does turn out that they're inclined to keep other occupied systems, they might choose to argue they were doing nothing more than following the example set in Trevor's Star's case and for the same reasons. Should they choose to employ that pretext—which, I hasten to add, we've seen no indication they intend to do—it would be a lie. But despite any concerns I might have for the future, I believe we have no choice but to accept the Star Kingdom's decision to permanently retain control of this particular star."

"Even without a formal treaty under which the Republic agrees to resign sovereignty?" Henneman pressed.

"I would certainly prefer to see the situation regularized under a formal treaty," McGwire replied. "But in light of the San Martin electorate's clearly expressed desire to become subjects of the Star Kingdom, and bearing in mind the formal declaration of the Constitutional Convention that no star system of the old People's Republic would be compelled against its will to remain a part of the new Republic, I see no other practical outcome."

"I see."

It was obvious to Theisman that Henneman was dissatisfied with McGwire's position on Trevor's Star. That was disturbing. McGwire was entirely too close to Arnold Giancola for Theisman's peace of mind, but it had begun to seem evident, especially in the thirty-six hours or so since Pritchart's speech, that in some respects the man in the street had become even more of a hardliner than Giancola. Trevor's Star, in particular, had become a hot button issue. So far as Theisman could see, what McGwire had just said should have been self-evident to anyone, but a sizable chunk of the newsfaxes and the public discussion groups appeared to disagree.

The disappearance of the People's Republic's onetime curbs on freedom of speech had created a chaotic, often vociferous ferment on the boards. The mere fact that people were now free to speak their minds seemed to provoke a large number of them into what often struck Theisman as public lunacy. Certainly, the old term "lunatic fringe" was the only one he could think of to describe a great deal of what found itself posted, and among the inhabitants of that fringe, there was a near hysterical demand that all of the occupied systems be restored to the Republic. Including Trevor's Star. In fact, especially Trevor's Star, which had become a rallying cry for the extremists despite the fact that anyone with half a brain had to know it wasn't going to happen.

What Theisman couldn't decide right now was whether Henneman belonged to that extreme fringe himself, or if he'd simply been looking for a sound-byte which could have been used to play to it. He rather hoped it was the latter.

"But you do agree that, as the President seemed to be saying, all of the other occupied systems must be restored to us?" the commentator asked McGwire after a moment.

"That isn't precisely what President Pritchart said, Roland," McGwire replied.

"It certainly sounded like it to me, Senator."

"If you go back to the actual text of her speech," McGwire disagreed, "what she said—what she demanded, I should say—was that the status of the occupied systems be resolved in a fashion consistent with our domestic law."

"Which sounds an awful lot like requiring that they be returned to us."

"No. What it requires is that those planets and those star systems be restored to our jurisdiction long enough for us to ascertain what the expressed will of their citizens is under conditions which let us be positive they're not being intimidated or coerced by an occupying power. Demanding that they be 'restored to us' could be interpreted as a demand that they be returned to our permanent political control, regardless of the desires of their inhabitants."

"But the determination of exactly what their will is would have to be made under our oversight. Is that what you understand the President to have been saying, Sir?"

"In its essentials, yes."

"And do you believe the Manties will ever allow that to happen?" Henneman pounced, and Theisman suddenly realized he was holding his breath as McGwire hesitated. Then the senator shook his head.

"To be completely honest with you, Roland, I don't know," he said regretfully. "I'd have to say that on the basis of their past positions and performance they would be . . . disinclined to do so."

Theisman cursed silently. Up to that point, he hadn't had any particular problem with anything McGwire had said on today's program. That wasn't true about comments he'd made in other venues, perhaps, and he did rather wish the man hadn't brought up that bit about using Trevor's Star's annexation as a pretext for additional territorial expansion. But he supposed that if he was going to be fair about it, the senator had a right to express whatever opinion he chose. Unfortunately, however reasonable they might be on the surface, McGwire's remarks, and especially that last one, were only going to pour additional fuel on the public resentment the Manticorans' ongoing occupation of the disputed star systems had generated.

And the senator had to be at least as well aware of that as Thomas Theisman was.

"And do you think President Pritchart would be prepared to accept their 'disinclination' in this matter?" Henneman asked.

"In the past," McGwire said, choosing his words with obvious care, "the President's options, as those of the Republic as a whole, have been limited by the disastrous military position we inherited from the Pierre Regime. Whatever we may have believed or desired, we were not, unfortunately, in a position of sufficient strength to press demands."

"A situation which you believe has changed?"

"A situation which may have changed," McGwire corrected. "Certainly Secretary of War Theisman's announcement of our increased naval strength is something which must be weighed by all parties to the ongoing negotiations. And certainly, from the tone of President Pritchart's speech, she expects that to happen. As she so eloquently explained, we've tried for years now to resolve this fundamental issue through peaceful negotiation with absolutely no sign that the Star Kingdom was prepared to meet us halfway. No one in his or her right mind would willingly contemplate a return to open military confrontation with the Manticoran Alliance, and we've done our very best to avoid any situation in which that outcome might become likely.

"Nonetheless, there comes a time, as the President also reminded us, when avoidance of risk threatens to become the surrender of principle. I believe the demands which she's issued to the Star Kingdom—that they negotiate in good faith and that they accept the principle of self-determination, expressed in plebiscites under Republican oversight and jurisdiction, for all of the occupied planets and star systems—are completely appropriate and proper. I feel confident that I can accurately say she enjoys very strong support by all parties in the Congress, and that we stand united behind her and Secretary of State Giancola in this matter."

"So, if I understand you correctly, Senator," Henneman said intently, "you're saying you would support the President's demands even at the risk of resuming active military operations against the Manties."

"Some things, Roland," McGwire said solemnly, "are sufficiently important, both as matters of national self-interest and of principle, to justify even the most serious risks. In my opinion, the well-being and right to self-determination of citizens of the Republic living under the military occupation of a foreign power certainly fall into both those categories."

The senator's timing was excellent, Theisman thought sardonically, as the program dissolved to a commercial message, leaving the viewers with the impression of his somber, strong-jawed face and steady brown eyes.

"Turn it off," the Secretary of War said, and the HD unit went obediently dead and then withdrew silently into its ceiling nest.

Theisman brought his chair fully upright and allowed his eyes to circle the conference table. It was a very large table. It had to be to accommodate all of the officers seated around it. Counting himself and Arnaud Marquette, there were no fewer than eighteen flag officers, and each of those commodores and admirals was accompanied by at least two or three aides and staffers.

A lot of those officers looked unusually young for their seniority, because they were. Saint-Just's destruction of the original Octagon and every single military officer in it had torn an enormous hole in the Navy's senior ranks. The purges which followed had only turned that hole into a yawning chasm. Theisman had been given no choice but to promote to fill all of those vacancies when he resurrected the Naval Staff, and he (and most of those whom he'd promoted) recognized the relative inexperience of the replacements. That was one of the major reasons why Theisman had combined the offices of Secretary of War and Chief of Naval Operations in his own person. Preposterous as it still seemed to him, he was very probably the single most experienced officer in the entire Republican Navy.

And he'd been a mere commander fifteen T-years before.

But young for their positions or not, they were the General Staff he had to work with. And to be fair, they'd acquired quite a lot of experience and on the job training over the last four years or so.

"Well, Ladies and Gentlemen," he observed after a moment, "there you have it. I suppose if the Chairman of the Foreign Affairs Committee said it on The Henneman Hour it has to be official."

A dutiful chuckle ran around the conference room, and he smiled thinly. Not that he felt particularly amused. Actually, McGwire had been considerably less inflammatory than Theisman had feared he might be, particularly in light of his close working relationship with Giancola. Theisman wasn't certain that his restraint reflected his actual position, but he was inclined to think it did. McGwire had never made any secret of his intense wariness about anything which might have brought the Republic and the Star Kingdom back into open conflict, despite his relationship with Giancola. In a way, though, that gave even more force to what he'd said at the very end, and Thomas Theisman didn't like what he sensed building about him.

He strongly suspected that even Eloise Pritchart had seriously underestimated the strength of the public reaction her speech was likely to provoke. But it seemed that the electorate's outrage and growing disgust and anger over the Manticorans' procrastination were beginning to outweigh its war weariness. For that matter, they even seemed to be starting to outweigh the public's deep seated fear of the Manticoran Alliance. Perhaps even worse was the strength of the public's deep resentment of the humiliating and crushing defeat the Manticorans had inflicted upon them. Theisman had seen enough of human nature to realize that revanchism spawned by resentment was far more dangerous than any anger based on reason or logic, and the strength of this resentment had surprised him.

It shouldn't have, and he knew it. But it had. Perhaps that was because it had seemed to him that his own awareness of how catastrophic any fresh confrontation with the Star Kingdom could prove ought to have been agonizingly obvious to anyone who thought about it for a moment. Yet whatever the reason for his own blindness, the sheer strength of the public's emotional response to Pritchart's speech had been far, far stronger than he'd ever anticipated that it might.

He didn't like that. He didn't like that at all . . . and he especially didn't like the way his own announcement of Bolthole's existence seemed to have fanned that outrage and anger to even hotter flame. The situation wasn't out of control yet. In fact, it was a long way short of that. But the potential for a ground swell of support for Giancola's style of confrontational foreign policy, regardless of its possible consequences, was there.

"It isn't our job to make foreign policy here at the Octagon," he told his subordinates after a moment. "That was a point the Navy tended to forget under the Legislaturalists, and that helped produce the Committee of Public Safety. But it is our job to evaluate the potential military threats which may confront of the Republic or hinder the attainment of its foreign policy objectives.

"Obviously, from the moment we made the existence of our new units public, the parameters of the potential threats we face changed dramatically. All of you are aware of that."

Heads nodded. And they'd damned well better! he thought. We've certainly spent long enough discussing those threats.

"The President's speech, and our more assertive position in the peace talks are going to change those parameters even further," he continued. "Frankly, I don't know how the Manticoran Alliance is going to respond to all this. So far," he emphasized the two words ever so slightly, "the President assures me she has no intention of resorting to the actual use of military force except in self-defense. Unfortunately, defending ourselves successfully, especially when so many of our star systems are already occupied by the potential enemy, creates a situation in which the best defense may indeed be a strong offense.

"The purpose of this meeting, Ladies and Gentlemen, is to bring all of you fully up to speed on the considerations which are currently shaping the way Admiral Marquette and I view our responsibilities. And our opportunities."

Some of the officers seated around the table stiffened visibly, almost like eager hounds scenting the prey, at his last three words, and he gave them an icy smile.

"Understand me," he said very softly. "I do not want a fresh war with the Star Kingdom of Manticore. Admiral Marquette doesn't want a war. More importantly, President Pritchart doesn't want one, either. If any one of you doesn't understand that very clearly, that situation had better change. Yes, I used the word 'opportunities,' and as military planners, we have to be just as aware of those as we must of threats. But those opportunities are not going to serve as excuses for launching a war when there is any way at all that we can avoid that. I trust I have made myself sufficiently clear."

He let his eyes sweep over them. No one said a word, but, then, no one needed to, and his nostrils flared briefly in satisfaction. Then he allowed the intensity of his gaze to ease just a bit and sat back in his chair once more.

"Having said that, however," he continued, "it's clearly necessary for us to revise our existing war plans to reflect the new realities stemming from Admiral Foraker's success at Bolthole. The new ships which have entered our order of battle give us many more options, and it's our responsibility to recognize them and plan accordingly.

"Admiral Marquette and I have discussed the implications of the changing diplomatic situation with President Pritchart and her Cabinet. We've also discussed our current military capabilities with Admirals Giscard, Tourville, and Foraker. On the basis of those considerations, I want a complete reevaluation of our current war plans. As you conduct that reevaluation, you will concentrate on and think in terms of three basic operational cases.

"Case Blue will concentrate on our defensive requirements in the face of an attack by the Manticoran Alliance upon the Republic. You will, of course, consider the possibility of an all-out attack on our territory, but, frankly, I think that's unlikely. Which is why your primary emphasis will be directed towards defeating any Manticoran preemptive counterforce attack intended to destroy our new ships.

"Case Amber will concentrate upon a limited offensive against the Star Kingdom of Manticore. The object of Case Amber will be the recovery by force of the star systems currently occupied by Manticoran forces. Again, let me emphasize that this will be a limited offensive. Our intentions under Case Amber will be to reoccupy our territory with a minimum of combat or loss of life on either side. I recognize, however, that minimizing combat may be difficult, particularly if the other side declines to cooperate."

He smiled again, this time with an edge of true humor.

"Accordingly, I want Case Amber split into two contingency plans. Case Amber Alpha will be predicated on the assumption that the Department of State and our diplomats have managed to prepare a situation in which a show of force will be sufficient to cause the Manticorans to withdraw their units. Assuming that that happy state of affairs can be created—which, frankly, I think is unlikely—Case Amber Alpha would require primarily logistical planning. Nonetheless, I want provision for the possibility that the Manticorans may decide not to withdraw after all. If they decide to fight, I don't want our commanders on the spot to be caught flatfooted by their response.

"Case Amber Beta, on the other hand, will assume from the beginning that occupying Manticoran forces will resist wherever possible. Amber Beta will distribute our forces in a fashion designed to provide sufficient strength to neutralize any hostile naval detachments occupying Republican territory while maintaining a powerful defensive force to fend off any counterattacks against the Republic as a whole.

"In either case, Case Amber will not envision an all-out offensive against the Star Kingdom or deep operations into the territory of the Manticoran Alliance. Its purpose will be solely to reoccupy our own territory."

He paused, considering their expressions and body language once more until he was satisfied that they all understood. Then he nodded.

"And then," he said quietly, "there's Case Red."

Something like a sigh ran through the conference room.

"Case Red will concentrate on an all-out offensive against the Star Kingdom and the Manticoran Alliance. Its object will be the neutralization of the enemy's war fighting capability. Operations will be planned in such a way as to retake the occupied systems using the most economical possible mix of pre-pod capital ships and CLACs, but the primary focus will be upon the location of the enemy's SD(P)s and CLACs and their complete destruction. The purpose of Case Red will not be to annex any system which was never a part of the People's Republic. It may be necessary to temporarily occupy some additional systems, but any such occupation will be just that: temporary.

"Once the RMN has been neutralized, we will be in a position to dictate terms to the Manties for a change. But for there to be any chance of a lasting peace between the Star Kingdom and the Republic, we must demonstrate our willingness to return to the pre-war status quo so long as our own territorial integrity is respected. President Pritchart and I have discussed this point at some length, and she feels very strongly about it. I mention this because I know some of the officers in this room would very much like to permanently retake Trevor's Star. Ladies and Gentlemen, that isn't going to happen. It will undoubtedly be necessary for us to temporarily reoccupy that star system, but its citizens have made their decision to become a part of the Star Kingdom abundantly clear, and the Star Kingdom has formally ratified that decision. This is the Republic of Haven, not the People's Republic of Haven, and we are not going to return to the days of repression by InSec or StateSec. Moreover, by making it clear to the Manticorans that we are prepared to return Trevor's Star to them, we will give the strongest possible evidence that our motives are essentially defensive and that our ultimate desire is to live in peace with our neighbors.

"Of course," he allowed himself a wintery chuckle, "before we can convince them of that, we'll probably have to beat the holy living hell out of them."

This time the mutter of laughter was louder, and he grinned.

"One point I'd like to make, if I may, Sir," Marquette put in after a moment, and Theisman nodded to him.

"As the Secretary already said, Ladies and Gentlemen," the Chief of Staff said, "he and I have discussed the bare bones of all three of these planning cases with Admirals Giscard, Tourville, and Foraker. We're in basic agreement that while none of us wants to go back to war, if we're forced to, we'll fight to win. If it comes to Case Red, that means that we'll go in hard, fast, and dirty.

"At the same time, as the Secretary also said, there are certain opportunities which our planning must not overlook. Specifically, at this time, it seems fairly evident that the Manties still don't realize just how much Admiral Foraker has actually accomplished. We've seen no evidence that they even suspect the existence of our CLACs, and so far as we're currently aware, they're also ignorant of the increases in our system efficiencies Admiral Foraker and her people have managed.

"Even if they become aware of all those factors, however, the building policies they've adopted over the past three years give us a substantial—I repeat, a substantial—advantage over them in modern ship types. Our best estimate at NavInt is that even if they realize tomorrow what they're actually up against, it will take them a minimum of two or even three T-years to regain parity in hulls."

"Sir," Vice Admiral Linda Trenis, the director of the Bureau of Plans, said very carefully, "are you suggesting that Case Red is actually likely to be put into effect?"

"No," Theisman replied for Marquette. Then he grimaced. "Let me rephrase. If, and I say if, it comes to open conflict with the Manties, I consider that Case Red is the war plan which we would be most likely to adopt. Under the circumstances, and especially in light of how close they already are to the Haven system with their advanced elements at Lovat, we simply don't have the depth to absorb a fresh, major offensive. Admiral Marquette is completely correct about the numerical advantage we currently enjoy over the RMN. Until and unless our hardware is tested against theirs in actual combat, no one can accurately estimate what the actual balance of military power is, although I genuinely believe it's presently in our favor. But it doesn't matter if our fleet is stronger than theirs if they manage to break through to Haven and occupy the high orbitals of the capital. And given the astrophysics of our starting positions, they're one hell of a lot closer to our capital system than we are to theirs.

"Because of that, if worse comes to worst and we're forced to resume operations, we must seize the initiative at the very outset and be certain that we retain it throughout. And to do that, Ladies and Gentlemen, is going to require that we go on the offensive and stay there. Which brings us directly to Case Red.

"That happens to be an inescapable consequence of the starting situation. But what you were really asking, Linda, was whether or not we should be planning a preemptive strike against them during the period in which we believe we enjoy military superiority. The answer to that question, is no. In fact, it's emphatically no. Does that clarify the situation for you?"

"Yes, Sir. It does," Trenis replied.

"Good."

"At the same time, Sir," the vice admiral went on, "what Admiral Marquette has just said is quite true. And for the immediate future, at least, the Manties' preoccupation with the Andermani only increases our probable advantage."

"That's true to a point, Linda," Vice Admiral Edward Rutledge, director of the Bureau of Logistics, said. "But they didn't actually commit very much of their modern fleet to Sidemore, you know."

"Agreed." Trenis nodded. "Every little bit helps, though, and they don't have all that many SD(P)s to begin with. And," she added, "they only have one Harrington, thank God! The longer they leave her at Sidemore, the better I'll like it."

Several people laughed, but there was more than a trace of genuine anxiety, not to say fear, in some of the laughter.

" 'The Salamander' isn't three meters tall, Linda," Theisman said after a moment. "Mind you, I'm not saying she isn't a tough customer. She is. I know, because she's beaten me twice. But she's also been beaten, you know. I certainly won't object if the Manties are stupid enough to leave her in Silesia, but I'm almost more grateful that they were dumb enough to put White Haven on the beach."

"Not to mention firing Caparelli. And Givens," Marquette put in, and Theisman nodded in emphatic agreement.

"Janacek has done his best to drive all of their better commanders onto half-pay. Webster, D'Orville, White Haven, even Sarnow. In fact, Kuzak is about the only one of their first-rate admirals who's still on active duty. And it's also true that the size of the commitment they've had to make to Silesia has moved the tonnage balance on this side of the Star Kingdom even further in our favor."

"You're right about that, Sir," Trenis said, and frowned thoughtfully. "In fact, as long as they're going to place themselves in a false position, perhaps we should be thinking in terms of taking advantage of their deployments if it does come down to Case Red."

"Meaning what?" Theisman asked, cocking his head at her.

"They've divided their Navy into three major fleets and a host of small detachments," Trenis pointed out. "I'm assuming from everything you've said, both today and in the past, that we shouldn't be thinking of a direct, immediate attack on the Manticore System itself."

She made the statement a question, and Theisman shook his head.

"Not an immediate attack, no. If it comes down to it, we'll probably have to move to at least threaten their capital system, but we can't afford to attempt that deep a strike until we've removed the threat of their doing the same thing to us."

"That's what I thought," Trenis said. "So we can more or less disregard their Home Fleet for the moment. With the mothballing of so many of their wormhole junction forts, they're going to be in an even worse position to reduce Home Fleet's strength, anyway. So that leaves only two major concentrations: Kuzak's fleet at Trevor's Star, and Harrington's at Sidemore. I believe those are our natural targets and that we should focus on ways to destroy both of them."

"Both of them?" Marquette's eyebrows arched. "You are aware, Linda, that the Marsh System is the next best thing to four hundred light-years from where we sit right now?"

"Yes, Sir. I am."

"In that case, you're probably also aware that it would take two and a half T-months for our ships to get from here to there." Trenis nodded again, and the chief of staff shrugged. "While I appreciate the fact that you're thinking in large terms, if you're proposing that we attempt to coordinate two offensives over that great a distance, you may be thinking just a bit too large."

"With all due respect, Sir, I don't think that's the case," Trenis replied. "I'm not proposing any sort of fine coordination. Obviously, at that distance from the capital, whoever was in command of any forces we sent to Silesia would have to exercise independent judgment. On the other hand, it might be possible to coordinate things a bit more effectively than you're assuming."

"I'd like to know precisely how you propose to do that," Marquette said. "Especially since the Manties would be in a position to move forces back and forth to and from Silesia through either Basilisk or Gregor faster than we could possibly move them."

"Obviously, Sir, we'd have to preposition our forces in Silesia. Once we got them there, there are plenty of uninhabited star systems in the Confederacy where they could lie low until and unless they were required to attack. If we positioned them and then decided, for whatever reason, not to use them, they could simply turn around and come home with no one the wiser. As far as anyone else would be concerned, they were never there, and we never even contemplated an attack on Sidemore."

"Um." Theisman rubbed his upper lip. "That sounds just a bit cynical, you know, Linda," he pointed out. "Not necessarily wrong. Just . . . cynical."

"Sir," Trenis said, perhaps just a little bit more patiently than she really ought to have, "if we're seriously considering the possibility of going back to war against the Manticoran Alliance, then it seems to me that whether or not we're being cynical is probably the least of our worries."

"Oh, you're right about that," Theisman agreed. "But to make what you're proposing work, we'd need two things. First, we'd have to have sufficient advance warning to spend the two and a half months it would take to send them there from here without using the Manticoran Junction. And, second, we'd have to have some means of being certain our forces in Silesia didn't attack if tensions eased here. I won't countenance a situation in which we find ourselves forced to attack here, even if a peaceful resolution would otherwise be possible, because we know a remote commander we can't recall in time is going to attack the Manties somewhere else."

"I'd already considered both of those points, Sir," Trenis said respectfully. "May I respond?"

"Of course you may. Please do."

"First of all, Sir, we can substantially reduce the time it would take for our forces to reach Silesia by stationing them closer to the frontier. If we were to move them over to Seljuk, for example, they'd be over a hundred and fifty light-years closer to Silesia, which would reduce their transit time by almost three weeks if we decided to commit them. Or, we could go ahead and deploy them all the way to Silesia immediately, as long as your second major concern is addressed."

"I suppose so," Theisman conceded slowly. "Of course, I'd want to be confident we didn't need those same ships here to deal with Kuzak. And, for that matter, that whatever we sent to Silesia would be adequate to deal with Harrington's forces there. There isn't much point in splitting our forces if it simply weakens us enough to be beaten in detail."

"Understood, Sir. In fact, I took that as a given before I ever raised the possibility. Unless the Manties have considerably more in the way of SD(P)s squirreled away somewhere than we know about, I think we can make up the numbers on both fronts."

"You're probably right. But that still leaves the problem of communicating with someone we've sent off with orders to attack if the situation changes here."

"Not really, Sir," Trenis said in that same respectful tone. "What I would propose doing would be something like this. We'd go ahead and preposition an attack force in Silesia, preferably somewhere close to Marsh but sufficiently out of the way that no one would be likely to stumble across them, and somewhere between Marsh and either Basilisk or Gregor. But that force would be authorized to attack only after receiving a specific release order from here."

"Which would get there exactly how?" Marquette asked skeptically.

"Actually, Sir, that's the easiest part of all," Trenis told him. "The order to attack in Silesia wouldn't be issued until after the order to attack Trevor's Star and the other Manticoran detachments in our space had been given. What would happen is that when our primary attack force, presumably the one tasked with retaking Trevor's Star, received final orders to begin its sortie, its commander would send a dispatch boat to Trevor's Star. That dispatch boat wouldn't be Navy; it would be a civilian vessel, with impeccable documentation to prove that it was. The dispatch boat would arrive at Trevor's Star at least forty-eight hours before our attack force, and it would make transit through the Manties' wormhole junction to Basilisk or Gregor. From there, it would proceed as rapidly as possible to rendezvous with our Silesian attack force to deliver its orders to attack March. If it passed through Trevor's Star forty-eight hours before we attacked, then it would have a forty-eight hour head start on any possible warning to Harrington—more than that, if our attack force was positioned between the courier's arrival terminus and Marsh. Which means that our Silesian units would receive their orders and move to attack her before she had any reason to expect it. Especially since she would never know they were in the area at all, and all of her attention would be directed towards keeping an eye on the Andermani, rather than worrying about anything we might do."

Theisman looked at her and rubbed his upper lip some more. Then he nodded slowly. "I'm not saying I think it would be a good idea to spread our forces so widely that it would be effectively impossible for either of them to support the other if it became necessary. That would have to be something we considered very carefully before we did it. But you're right. If we used a scenario similar to the one you're describing, we wouldn't have to worry about an attack in Silesia committing us here, but we could still get the order to attack there into the CO's hands well before Harrington—or whoever was in command there at the time—knew we were at war."

"It sounds like an excellent idea to me, too," Marquette agreed. "Except, of course, that if there was a period of escalating tension between us and the Manties before we attacked Trevor's Star, then Kuzak would probably do what she's done before and close the Trevor's Star terminus to all nonmilitary traffic. Which would freeze our messenger out."

"I can think of two ways to solve that problem, Sir," Trenis said confidently. "One would be to use a diplomatic courier. If nothing else, the Silesians do maintain an embassy right here in Nouveau Paris and, let's be honest, if we offer a sufficiently toothsome bribe to their Ambassador, he'd be perfectly willing to make one of his official dispatch boats available to us. That would still allow us to send the orders to our Silesian commander with a forty-eight-hour head start over any message that could reach Harrington, and Kuzak would never close the junction to a vessel with diplomatic immunity. Not, at least, when no shots had actually been fired.

"The second solution would lose some of our head start time, but it would be even simpler than that. All we really have to do is to plant our courier in the Manticore System ahead of time. I'm sure that if we put our intelligence types to work on it, they could come up with any number of covers for an ostensibly civilian ship—probably one that doesn't even have a Republican registry—to hang around in Manticore for several days, or even a few weeks. If we attack Trevor's Star, it's going to be pretty damned obvious very quickly to everyone in the Manticore System that we've done so. If nothing else, there are going to be enough ship movements in and out of the junction to give it away. So as soon as the skipper of our courier knows that the attack has actually commenced, she goes ahead and transits through the junction to either Basilisk or Gregor and proceeds to rendezvous. She'll probably still have a little bit of head start, since no one in the Star Kingdom, especially with Janacek and his crowd running their Admiralty, is going to spare as much as a single thought for the possibility that we might be contemplating hitting them simultaneously someplace that far away. That means they'll probably be slow off the mark getting word of the attack to their Sidemore Station commander. And even if they're not, the fact that no one is going to be anticipating an attack that far from any of our bases should still give us tactical surprise."

"Well," Marquette said with a crooked smile, "that's knocked that objection on the head, too. You do seem to be in fine form today, Linda."

"Yes, you do," Theisman agreed. "Mind you, I'm still far from convinced that splitting our forces in the first place would be a good idea. Especially when we don't know which way the Graysons are likely to jump. But if we did decide to do any such thing, I think the arrangements you've sketched out would probably work."

"I'm fairly certain they would, Sir," Marquette told him. "And as far as the Graysons are concerned, at the moment Janacek and High Ridge seem to be almost as intent on pissing them off as they were on firing all of their best admirals! According to all our sources in the Star Kingdom, it's pretty obvious Janacek doesn't trust Benjamin Mayhew as far as he could throw him in a two-grav field. Which is uncommonly stupid even for Janacek, but let's not look a gift horse in the mouth."

"Admiral Marquette is right about that, Sir," Trenis observed. "And for that matter, right this minute, Grayson has just sent a sizable chunk of its total navy off on some sort of long-term, long-range training deployment. According to NavInt's sources, they'll be gone for at least the next four to five standard months. If the balloon should happen to go up during that time period, well . . ."

She shrugged, and Thomas Theisman nodded slowly and thoughtfully.