Scattered Suns - Kevin J. Anderson [106]
Lanyan lifted his square-jawed head to regard her. “Commander Tamblyn, we have a certain matter to discuss. Your service record remains impressive, and your skill level is unmatched in many areas.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, stiff and formal. I know that.
Even so, Tasia felt a knot in her stomach. Now that Hansa depredations against the Roamers had increased, Lanyan might command her to reveal the locations of clan facilities, including her family’s Plumas water mines. She formulated her words, ready to speak firmly, without wavering. If necessary, she would defy his order to betray the clans, then give him an earful about his ridiculous priorities and how he was forgetting the real enemy of the human race. Afterward, the General would probably court-martial her.
Instead, he surprised her. “How would you like your command back?”
Though taken off guard, she answered in a heartbeat. “Absolutely, General—as soon as possible.”
His smile showed blunt teeth. “I understand you prefer fighting the hydrogues to your current assignment?”
Her pulse sped up. Maybe they had a real mission for her again. “With all due respect, old veterans could supervise the training activities here on Mars. I sure would prefer something else, sir.”
“After these months of hard work, our new rammer fleet is almost complete. Sixty reinforced vessels will be crewed by expendable Soldier compies. However, we need several experienced officers willing to take charge of this fleet and deliver it in our first concerted attack against the drogues. You must remain on standby at all times and be ready to launch the moment the fleet is ready and we identify a target.”
Tasia caught her breath. Although high-tech weaponry such as fracture-pulse drones and carbon-carbon slammers had not caused as much damage as the EDF had hoped, compy-crewed kamikaze vessels had provided the only effective offense in the battle of Osquivel. She’d been following the construction of the heavily reinforced rammers, just waiting for them to be finished.
“But if those ships have a full crew of Soldier compies, what do you need me for?”
Lanyan cracked his knuckles and sat back in his chair. “In a matter of such importance, I am not willing to trust everything to compies—not even the new Soldier models. I insist on having a few humans on board the rammer fleet to make command decisions—a set of token officers, one human commander for every ten vessels. In theory, you shouldn’t have a thing to do, but we both know that nothing ever goes exactly as planned, especially in a chaotic battle environment.”
“Yes, sir. I saw that for myself at Jupiter, Boone’s Crossing, and Osquivel.”
“As I said, Commander, your service record to date is impressive. Except for a few disciplinary incidents that demonstrate you have some difficulty getting along with your fellow soldiers, your performance in a battlefield environment is faultless. You’re the perfect choice for the job.” She could sense his half-hidden dislike of her Roamer heritage in his grudging acknowledgment that she was the best.
Pride warred with common sense in her head. “I’ve read about how an Ildiran Adar crushed the enemy at Qronha 3, sir, and I know what our new rammers are designed to do.” Her eyes narrowed. “So be straight with me, General. You’re asking me to volunteer for a suicide mission?” Just like Robb did, when he went aboard the diving-bell encounter vessel.
Lanyan made a too-casual dismissive gesture. “There are risks, certainly, but it’s not a suicide mission, Tamblyn. We’ve designed the rammer ships with an escape system for each token commander. Once the Soldier compies have their final orders, you can run to the evac pod and jettison in time. You can just sit back and watch the fireworks as you float safely away.”
“In theory,