OLD MAN'S WAR

"Respectfully, sir, no," I said. "We crashed and there were no survivors other than myself. It's hardly meritorious service. Beyond that, any praise in making it to the surface of Coral belongs to my pilot, Fiona Eaton."

 

"Pilot Eaton has already been decorated posthumously, Corporal," General Keegan said. "Small consolation to her, being dead as she is, but it's important to the CDF that such actions are noted somewhere by us. And despite your modesty, Corporal, you will be decorated as well. Others survived the Battle of Coral, but that was by luck. You took initiative and showed leadership in an adverse situation. And you've shown your capacity to think on your feet before. That firing solution against the Consu. Your leadership in your training platoon. Master Sergeant Ruiz made special note of your use of the BrainPal in the final training war game. I served with that son of a bitch, Corporal. Ruiz wouldn't compliment his mother for giving birth to him, if you know what I mean."

 

"I think I do, sir," I said.

 

"That's what I thought. So a Bronze Star for you, son. Congratulations."

 

"Yes, sir," I said. "Thank you, sir."

 

"But I didn't ask you here for that purpose," General Keegan said, and then motioned down the table. "I don't believe you've met General Szilard, who heads our Special Forces. At ease, no need to salute."

 

"Sir," I said, nodding in his direction, at least.

 

"Corporal," Szilard said. "Tell me, what have you heard about the situation over Coral?"

 

"Not very much, sir," I said. "Just conversations with friends."

 

"Really," Szilard said, dryly. "I would think your friend Private Wilson would have given you a comprehensive briefing by now."

 

I was beginning to realize that my poker face, never very good, was even less so these days. "Yes, of course we know about Private Wilson," Szilard said. "You might want to tell him that his snooping around is not nearly as subtle as he thinks it is."

 

"Harry will be surprised to hear it," I said.

 

"No doubt," Szilard said. "I also have no doubt he's also appraised you on the nature of the Special Forces soldiers. It's not a state secret, incidentally, although we don't put information on the Special Forces in the general database. Most of our time is spent on missions that require strict secrecy and confidentiality. We have very few opportunities to spend much time with the rest of you. Not much inclination either."

 

"General Szilard and Special Forces are taking the lead on our counterattack on the Rraey at Coral," General Keegan said. "While we intend to take the planet, our immediate concern is to isolate their tachyon detection apparatus, disable it without destroying it if we can, but destroy it if we must. Colonel Golden here"—Keegan motioned to a somber-looking man next to Newman—"believes we know where it is. Colonel."

 

"Very briefly, Corporal," Golden said. "Our surveillance before the first attack on Coral showed the Rraey deploying a series of small satellites in orbits around Coral. At first we thought them to be spy satellites to help the Rraey identify Colonial and troop movement on the planet, but now we think it's an array designed to spot tachyon patterns. We believe the tracking station, which compiles the data from the satellites, is on the planet itself, landed there during the first wave of the attack."

 

"We think it's on the planet because they figure it's safest there," General Szilard said. "If it were on a ship, there's a chance an attacking CDF ship might hit it, if only by sheer luck. And as you know, no ship but your shuttle got anywhere close to the Coral surface. It's a good bet it's there."

 

I turned to Keegan. "May I ask a question, sir."

 

"Go ahead," Keegan said.

 

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked. "I'm a corporal with no squad, platoon or battalion. I can't see why I should need to know this."

 

"You need to know this because you're one of the few survivors of the Battle of Coral, and the only one that survived by something more than chance," Keegan said. "General Szilard and his people believe, and I agree, that their counterattack has a better chance of succeeding if someone who was there in the first attack advises and observes the second. That means you."

 

"With all due respect, sir," I said. "My participation was minimal and disastrous."

 

"Less disastrous than almost everyone else's," Keegan said. "Corporal, I won't lie to you—I'd prefer we'd have someone else in this role. However, as it stands, we do not. Even if the amount of advice and service you can give is minimal, it is better than nothing at all. Besides, you've shown the ability to improvise and act quickly in combat situations. You will be of use."

 

"What would I do?" I asked. Keegan glanced over to Szilard.

 

"You'd be stationed on the Sparrowhawk," Szilard said. "They represent the Special Forces with the most experience in this particular situation. Your job would be to advise the Sparrowhawk senior staff on your experience at Coral, observe, and act as liaison between CDF regular forces and Special Forces if one is required."

 

"Would I fight?" I asked.