From Darkness

[Manticore]

STEVEN

All the captains and executive officers of the units in the newly-created task group filed into the cavernous briefing room and took their seats. At the front of the room, Admiral Alan Polstari stood at a lectern and watched them enter, his staff seated around him.

Lieutenant Steven Falkland was among the last to enter, and chose a seat near the front on the left side of the room. James Lambert, his exec, dutifully followed him. They were aboard the China Lake, Polstari's dreadnought flagship, and this briefing had been called for something called "Operation Charging Bull". Falkland disregarded the Naval grapevine by principal, so he knew nothing else about this planned operation.

As the last of the officers took their seats, Polstari cleared his throat, preparing to speak. Falkland had studied the man closely over the course of the previous interactions they'd had - he was a by-the-book sort, a stickler for rules and procedures, and a walking contradiction. Polstari's attitude and demeanor matched that of a much older man, the sort of career admiral who'd served for decades and wanted everything done precisely his way. But Polstari himself was startlingly young, having achieved flag rank at an age younger than most lieutenants and lieutenant commanders. Not only that, but Polstari was assigned to primary fleet, meaning that he served directly under Fleet Admiral Baker herself and that he, unlike most other admirals, was considered a direct superior to Lieutenants Falkland and Lambert.

"Welcome to the first briefing for Operation Charging Bull," Polstari began. "The Fleet Admiral has assembled this task group specifically for this operation, and our timetable is rather short. Thus, I'd ask you to pay close attention and keep all questions to a minimum."

He paused momentarily, as officers prepared to take notes, and then continued. "This operation will be of an offensive nature, and we will be striking into Rheinland territory in significant numbers for the first time in several months."

There was a quiet murmur through the room, and Falkland resisted the urge to grimace at the reaction. The officers in the room were acutely aware of the dangers of letting a wounded enemy hang around. As far as they were concerned, this was a long time coming.

"We'll be taking our entire unit to Hamburg," Polstari continued, unruffled by the reaction, "and making a strike at Altona Station, in orbit of Planet Hamburg. The LSF has provided us some remarkable intel - the Kanzler himself will be making a visit to Hamburg, and his party is scheduled to stop over on Altona for an hour before being shuttled to the surface."

There was stunned silence in the crowd of officers. This was an enormous opportunity - a chance to end the war in a single blow.

"This task group has been ordered to perform a hit and run operation on the station, using the marines aboard the Mesa Verde," he paused and looked directly at Falkland, "to board the station, eliminate the Kanzler and his bodyguards, and withdraw as soon as possible."

Lambert glanced over, and Falkland pointedly ignored him. This was an enormous task, especially considering the relatively small size of their marine unit. But it was also a grand opportunity - the sort he had been awaiting for a very long time.

His mind whirring off in other directions, Falkland calmly gazed back at Polstari until the admiral finally continued.

"The Mesa Verde will move in under covering fire from the capital units, accompanied by a fighter escort. We do not anticipate any significant resistance, but we will have to hold position until the job is done and the entire force can withdraw back to Liberty."

Polstari continued laying out the plan, having now gained the rapt attention of every man and woman in the room. To Falkland, the plan seemed sound, if rather simplistic. Simple had its place, but the unspoken subtext was that the fancy work would be left up to the marines – and ultimately, Falkland – to figure out. That would be messy, no matter how everything else went. Either they managed to succeed, and Falkland took the credit, or they failed spectacularly, and Falkland took the blame. It was not the sort of risk he was accustomed to taking, not when so much else was on the line.

Then, an idea crept into his head – a delightfully cold-blooded idea. A way to guarantee his own interests would be furthered, no matter what else happened.

For the rest of the briefing he did not pay attention to a word that was said, intent on his own internal machinations.

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