New Avalon
January 15th, 3025
The nice thing about being underground was the warm air. The not so nice thing was you forgot what the sun looked and felt like, although judging from the reports of local weathermen no one had seen or felt the sun in a few days. You also forgot to what time it was. If it weren't for the attendants, and the meal schedule, a person could quickly lose track.
Of course, a few weeks of inactivity meant losing track of the days was the least of many things to worry about. Losing his mind over inactivity was another. On the surface he had a nicely appointed apartment he never spent any time in. In the Den he had been given an office, a small staff, and nothing else. Various memo's came across his desk, he read them, then usually threw them away. The only ones he did save were regarding the Kettering. LaFarge and the new officers had picked up where he had left off, drubbing the 8th Crucis Lancers.
The other memo's he had studied dealt with the recent raid by MacCarron's Armored Cavalry. He had gone so far as to appropriate whatever information he could, and with a Marshall's Rank and security clearance so high it was almost stratospheric, that was quite a bit of information, and he was studying it intently. It was bold, daring, took more than a few risks, but the planning and logistics behind it were what impressed him. It was long thought that coordinating an RCT on a planet taxed a commanders resources, and here McCarron had done it across two years and several star systems. He had detailed maps and after Action reports printed out, covering one wall, and when he wasn't standing in front of them studying them, he was at his desk, studying them from afar.
When the knock on the door occurred, he was standing in front of the wall again, jacket off, sleeves rolled up, eating a roast beef sandwich, admiring again the coordination McCarron pulled off with his jumpships.
“ENTER!†he half yelled,taking another bite. He heard a soft curse from his much put upon aide, but paid it no mind.
“Are we interrupting something, Marshal Zibler?â€
Dammit, he knew that voice. He had to stop impressing her like this.
“No Sir,†he said turning away from the wall. Marshall of the Armies and Princes Champion Yvonne Davion stood looking at him, arms crossed, a slight smile on her face. That's when he realized she was not alone.
“Marshal Zibler, it's a pleasure to meet you,†Hanse Davion, First Prince of the Federated Suns, walked forward, cane in one hand, other hand outstretched.
Zibler momentarily went into brain lock. Do I say Hi? Do I shake his hand? Do I salute? Deciding that when push came to shove, the military way was the only way, He assumed a position of attention and began to salute, then realized he was still holding the sandwich in that hand.
“Sir!†he barked. “Um, sorry, My Prince, if you'll forgive me...†he raised the hand with the sandwich in it almost apologetically, stepped over to his desk, put it down, grabbed a napkin and wiped furiously for a second, then turned back around. Both the Prince and the Marshall were looking at him with something bordering on amusement. Beyond them he could see his aide hanging his head, shaking it.
The Prince proffered his hand again, and the Marshal shook it.
“Please, Sirs, sit,†he gestured to a pair of chairs in front of his desk. “Would you care for any tea? I do have a pot of water ready.†Marshall Davion went and sat down, declining his offer. The Prince went over and stood in front of the wall, looking over many of the charts he had.
“This,†Hanse Davion said with a sweep of his hand, “Is most impressive.†Marshall Zibler couldn't help himself, he went and stood next to his Prince, and started talking.
“I agree sir. A most impressive campaign run by a very capable commander. Hard to believe that this level of coordination was pulled off in this day and age.†Out of the corner of his eye he could see Marshall Davion wince.
“Actually, Marshall Zibler, I was referring to your display of information. You have data from three different intelligence branches and six different working groups organized in a clear, cognizant manner that I suspect very few people would have trouble following.†The Princes voice was very matter of fact, he waved his cane at a few printouts.
“Yes Sir, thank you Sir. If anything it's a teaching moment for us sir, one that I think we can learn from.â€
“And that, Marshall Zibler, is why I am here. Lets go to my office.â€
“Uh, yes sir.†They left quickly enough that Zibler forgot his jacket. The walk to the Princes office was quick, with next to no small talk. Once inside behind the double doors, Prince Davion keyed a device that sat on his desk, then sat down quite heavily, favoring his leg.
“Weather playing hell with your leg sir?†Zibler asked. Davion returned the question with an arched eyebrow.
“My Uncle had a similar injury, said he always knew when the weather was going to be bad because it would hurt like a mother—well, it would really hurt. I never really believe him till I spent the summer with him once and he predicted every day it would rain.â€
Hanse smiled apologetically. “I'll manage Marshal, although I thank you for your inquiry.†He sat back in the chair, thinking for a minute, just long enough for Zibler to start contemplating exactly what the hell minefield he had gotten himself into this time.
“Marshal Zibler, first of all I wanted to congratulate you on your performance and the Kettering Proving ground commander. You did yeoman's work in getting that up and running, and your record speaks volumes to you and your troops capabilities and efforts. I have been very pleased with the results.â€
“Thank You Sir,†Zibler couldn't help it, he smiled. Praise was one thing, but praise from Hanse Davion was something else entirely. “and thank you for the promotion, it did cut a lot of the chaff at the end of the day.â€
“You earned it Marshal, I was more than happy to sign that particular piece of paperwork. Now, what exactly can you tell me your working on now?â€
Zibler paused. “Well, to be honest sir, nothing really. At the moment I seem to be “without Portfolio†as it were. I've done some Gauntlet work for SINA, but other than that, not a lot. I'm presently attached to Strategy and Tactics, but I have no official duties as of yet. I know Marshal Karrendal at SINA wants me to give a couple of lectures this semester, I am looking very forward to that.†And he was. Teaching was one thing he found he had a knack for.\
“Well, Marshal, I have another assignment for you. He hit a button, and one wall slid away to reveal a flatscreen display. A Map of the Federated Suns was prominent, and it zoomed in. Hanse Davion stood up, and with a small arm movement beckoned Zibler over.
“Watch, and tell me what you think, Marshal.â€
Zibler did. Hanse hit a button on the display, and data began to flow. RCT locations, jumpship timetables, then slowly, lines began to appear, units moving from the core and edge towards the interior. Ten, Twenty, Fifty, soon some 75 Mech regiments had wound their way across the Federated Suns and to the Capellan and Kuritan border.
“Impressive Sir. The basic work looks good, and the movements are well planned, but there are some underlying issues I think were missed.â€
“Thank you Marshal, it's nice to know my planning skills haven't eroded over the years.†The Princes smile was genuine. In her chair Yvonne Davion almost choked on the tea she was drinking. Inwardly Zibler felt his stomach knot up. “Christ man, one of these days just keep quiet!†his inner voice was telling him.
“Uh, you welcome Sir. If I may point out a few things?â€
“Of course. Excuse me.†Hanse turned around and sat back down in the chair next to his Champion.
“It's ambitious, but there are several flaws. The first is that this sort of movement has never taken place before. Which means that something will go wrong, and judging by the time table in place I would say that bottle neck would be the transportation assets involved. Looks as if a lot of the jump ships are assigned double and in some cases triple duty. One failure would cause a ripple effect that would set the whole thing back.â€
“Solution?†asked Marshal Davion.
“If this is what you want to do, temporarily seize civilian assets. It's the only way this has a chance if succeeding. The second issue I see is that this is overly ambitious. 100 mech regiments moving is going to play havoc with the system, and then set off our neighbors.â€
“What if that's the final plan?†Asked the Prince. Zibler blinked.
“This is the “Run†part of the plan, Sir?†he asked.
“If you are referring to Crawl, Walk, Run, then yes.â€
“Ah, well, that does make sense. Well, There are always going to be logistical issues involved with such large maneuvers. But, as long as your willing to give local commanders the leeway to get things done the best way they see fit I suppose, and the bullets and butter guys are up to speed, that shouldn't be a problem. But to be honest, until we do it, there's no telling what issues are going to arise. I could do my best forecast and still miss stuff.â€
“So how big would the crawl phase have to be in your opinion Marshal?†asked Yvonne.
Zibler thought for a few minutes. “At a minimum. 10 RCT's, with accompanying units. If those were moved to the Terran corridor, it would be enough to set of alarms everywhere, which can be good and bad.†He Paused. “Plus it will give us a good idea on what needs to be done in terms of supply and the like. There's going to be enough snafu's moving 10 RCT's, I can imagine the headaches moving more than 50. No, 10 RCT's is a crawl. Next we do 20, maybe 30 RCT's. After that we see what we can really screw up...†Zibler stopped talking. He felt it the right thing to do before further embarrassing himself.
Hanse nodded to his Champion. “I can see why you like him, Yvonne.†He stood up, walked next to Zibler, and swiped the deployment map away. It was replaced by an Org chart, one that did it's best to show the AFFC high command and its departments. Rumor had it if you stared at it long enough and relaxed one eye, various images would jump out of the jumbled mess in 3-D. Hanse zoomed in, to where his name was at the top, followed by Marshal Davion's, then a line leading to Strategy and Planning. Off of that line was a dotted line, leading to a box, with his name in it. The pit in his stomach grew tighter.
“Marshal Zibler, what you've just seen is the basis for what I am calling Operation GALAHAD. It is now your responsibility. You answer to Marshal Karrandal in theory only, for the time being you talk to noone but myself and Marshal Davion about this. I want preliminary plans and OpOrd's generated for a 10 RCT movement to these PDZ's.â€
“Uh, yessir. Thank You sir.â€
“Marshal Davion and I will help assemble your staff. This is going to be codeword clearance only, and I suspect we'll be spending quite a bit of time going over a few things related to this.â€
Zibler tried not to gulp.
“Thank you sir.â€
“Excellent. Marshal Zibler, I thank you for your insight and opinions. The guard outside will escort you back to your office.†Hanse Davion stood, proffered his hand again, and this time, Zibler took it. Than hand shake was just on the right side of bone crushing, and the look in his rulers face was determined, to say the least. Suddenly, the knot in his belly went away. Zibler could never explain why, but looking into Hanse Damion’s eyes, seeing what burned within, made him want to succeed, lest he be on the receiving end of that anger.
Marshal Davion shut the door behind him, laughing quietly to herself. A guard in body armor waited outside.
“Where to Sir?†he asked politely.
“You know Sargent, I haven't the faintest idea.â€