Chapter Seven: The Plan

Seven ship wolfpack, which wasn't enough to even make the enterprise a long shot. Transit to Shanxi System in formation, which wouldn't help at all with the inevitable ambush awaiting them at the relay jumpzone. FTL to Shanxi orbit, which was probably so well-defended as to be impossible to safely jump to. Equipment drop by suborbital thrusters, just so the aliens knew what the Alliance was up to. Combat drop by assault pod, but into the forests kilometres away from the target zone. Rendez-vous with local forces at Xi'an Valley, which would probably be surrounded by the time the mission was a go. Fix the alien ships, which no human engineer had ever set eyes on in an intact state. Fly the alien ships through the blockades back to Arcturus, which might end badly as the picket ships would not be informed of the mission until they picked up the friendly IFFs.

Hannah finished off her G&T, letting out a long sigh afterwards. The plan was insanity. It relied on many factors that couldn't be counted upon to flow favourably. Not least of these was how the aliens would react when a single group of frigates showed up. They had ignored some reconnaissance flights, possibly to encourage human leadership to surrender when it was seen how easily Shanxi was falling. Unfortunately, there was too much personnel and equipment to bring to simple spoof one of those missions. However, there was at least one reason to be glad.

Grissom really had picked the best.

Hannah looked across the table at three of them, in the empty officer's bar that was decked out like an old style pub with wood furnishings nearby the B Docks. All were deep in their cups now, despite it only being about midday on the station. Things were deathly quiet almost everywhere. Everyone was on their ships, at their workstations or in simulation chambers, drilling and preparing for the big offensive to come.

Mari look positively pleased with herself, a small smile flashing as she looked into her glass before drinking. Hannah narrowed her eyes for the third time at the gesture, knowing that the mission was the blonde Scandinavian's idea of a dream job. Mari was a hotshot pilot. One of the first to win a combat kill, against a pirate group that had sprung up on the edges of known space. She lived for this sort of danger. Hannah did too, but was more reluctant to embrace it. There was Jane to think about, after all.

David Anderson wore a studied, expressionless face. His eyes were glued to the ceiling, though his head remained level with the table. Hannah didn't know him well enough to read him. Was he afraid? Eager to fight? Resigned to his fate? The man didn't seem to offer any clues at that moment. He was the only marine at the table, taking up Mari's offer as they were leaving the briefing room after having met the Army's team.

The last member of the session was reluctantly sipping a beer, barely a quarter of the glass finished where everyone else was almost done. John had been very quiet since the end of Grissom's reveal. This had sent Hannah into an internal panic briefly. He was always the brash, sarcastic talker. Beyond that, there was the obvious question.

"Why didn't you tell me?" she asked him.

All three of the others looked at her, their individual thoughts interrupted by the query.

John's face softened. "I didn't know," he replied, "They said top secret briefing, I've been to twenty of those in the past two weeks. Mostly inspecting alien ship parts. Only strange thing this time was that they wanted us to meet in the pilots' briefing room of another fleet."

Hannah frowned, thinking that detail was strange enough to warrant a mention at least. John was fairly tightlipped about work to begin with. He fixed ships, she flew them, the details of both differed enormously. She pondered what to say next, when Anderson jumped in.

"For the record, I had no idea either," Anderson said, "I was questioned by Grissom about the lengths we should go to in this war a while back. I got a transfer notice yesterday along with the order to report."

"We got it after kicking ass in the simulators," Mari said, hand on chin, "I guess we all have something they need for this thing to work."

Hannah rolled her eyes. "Of course we do," she said, "Marines to get us there, engineers to fix and run the ships, pilots to fly them out. Problem is that this won't be a simulation. I'm not even trained to drop into an atmosphere in a tin can!"

Anderson laughed, leaning back in his chair.

"Riding the lightning is easy, Shepard," he chuckled, "Imagine a rollercoaster, followed by a solid kick in the ass, and that's all there is to it. Especially since you won't be steering it, it'll follow my pod down."

"You make it sound so easy," said John flatly, "But aren't we going to be shot at when we're doing it?"

"It's more fun that way," Mari smiled.

"It means you're safer than the people on the ship being left behind, actually," Anderson said, "They can't target pods except within a couple of kilometres, and they won't be anything like that close when we enter orbit. If they're shooting, it'll be at the ship, not us."

"And when we get down to the ground?" Hannah asked, not convinced.

"You do what I say, and stick with the Army team," replied Anderson, raising his glass, "We'll take care of you."

John hummed his disapproval of that plan. "I think I might be a little more scared of the Army people than the aliens..." he said, "They seem to have sent all the psychopaths they had."

With a growl of agreement, Anderson took a large swing, polishing off the last of his drink, before setting it down gently. "About that..." he said, "I've heard of some of them. Rumours."

"Rumours saying what?" Mari asked, wavering for the first time, "Are they going to do the job?"

"They wouldn't be picked if they weren't," Anderson said, "But some of them have reputations."

"Like what?" said Hannah.

Anderson got out his data tablet and scrolled down a list of files for a moment, before bringing up the one he was looking for. A well-built woman in her thirties appeared, pale as snow with short brown curls for hair and scars on her face. Information about her lined up in turn, along with further pictures of her in fatigues and in the field, some when she was much younger.

"This is Nina Pavlichenko," the marine said, "You know, the one who just stood at the back, wouldn't shake our hands or speak?"

"Yeah, I noticed that," said John, "She creeped me the hell out. Just stared between the wall and the projector, like no one was in the room except her."

"There's a good reason for that, or so the rumours go," said Anderson, "She first volunteered for combat when she was seventeen, with the Russian forces of the PAC back in the Cold War. Joined the Sniper Section, racked up hundreds of kills on EU and African troops just as the war was turning against her country. She was captured and things got ugly, and spent the next seven years in a POW camp in Sudan. That's all in the files, of course, but what isn't is that she made eighteen escape attempts, all of them deadly. During the last one, she managed to get a rifle and killed thirty two guards before running out of ammunition and surrendering."

Hannah looked at Anderson like he had three heads, and wondered if Grissom was entirely insane before remembering that he hadn't been involved with the Army's selections.

"How the hell is she not dead?!" John declared, "You're telling me that a pissed off Russian has been assigned to protect us?!"

Anderson flicked through the files with his thumb for a second before speaking. "She was released to the Special Forces on her own request," he said, "There's an evaluation here that says she would be a burden to the state as a civilian, and that her skills were too valuable to waste. The offer was made and accepted."

Hannah put her face in her hands, and rubbed it a little as she absorbed the information. She made a quick mental note to steer well-clear of the madwoman, and felt like she needed another drink.

"Jesus Christ," John continued, "Please tell me that she's the only crazy one."

"Not even," Anderson replied.

"Who's the next most crazy?" Mari asked cheerily, "I'd like to know where I figure on the list."

"Probably Martinez," said Anderson, "I've met him before. He's a combat engineer with a real love affair with explosives. I heard there are couple of open arson cases on him too, though nothing seems to stick. You shouldn't worry about him too much, he's not a stone cold killer like Pavlichenko. Little man just likes to watch things blow up."

"I'm more crazy than that," said Mari, disappointed, "Like to see him run at a dreadnought in a frigate. And win."

"Mari, that was a simulation and you weren't alone," Hannah replied in a low tone, "That doesn't count."

"Are you saying you wouldn't do what we did, when the time came?" Mari asked, with an accusatory finger pointed, "Don't lie, Hannah."

The finger wiggled slightly, before being put away as Hannah grimaced at its owner.

"She would," replied John, "Which is why I can't be on this mission. I'm going to request a transfer."

All heads swivelled to him, Hannah's first.

"That's impossible," Anderson said, "When Grissom wants something, he gets it. He's a hero of the entire human race. Good luck turning him down."

"We have a kid, lieutenant," John said, "Can't put both of her parents on a suicide mission."

"It's not a suicide mission," Mari insisted.

"The Army thinks it is," John pressed, "They're sending the crazies that no one will miss."

"What do the Army know!" snapped Hannah, her voice raised.

The table went silent.

"John, do you think it would be any worse if only one of us died?" Hannah said, "If this mission fails, our entire species could be enslaved! You were picked for a reason, and you're coming. Our daughter is going to live in a universe where she's free. You're not backing out of this!" The flight lieutenant immediately regretted her outburst, but she could do nothing now that it had been said. The entire group recoiled, startled by the declaration.

"If we die, Jane will know it was to save her," Hannah added more quietly, "Along with every other little girl."

John paused, and to Hannah's great relief, nodded slowly.

"Don't worry you two," Mari said, "I'll pull your asses out of the fire. Like always."

The entire table grinned at her child-like confidence in their own survival. Hannah seized on it like the lifeline it was. After all, they had all just been volunteered for a suicide mission.


AUTHOR'S NOTE: Short and snappy chapter to announce the resumption of writing for this story. Hope you enjoy it!