Devil's Due (Destroyermen #12)(102)



“Our first priority is to reform the armies, obviously.” He shook his head. “Third Army was almost destroyed.”

“It was destroyed, as a fighting force,” Bekiaa snapped. “Send the badly crippled legions to Fort Melhausen, escorting the wounded, but keep the rest. Integrate them into First and Second Armies.”

“It’s not that simple,” Kim objected. “Nor is it certain we can continue. I must consult Nig-Taak, hear his views.”

“It is that simple,” Bekiaa stated. “You command and must continue, moving faster than ever before!” She gestured around. “Other plans were set in motion when you began this caampaign. They all depend on you. If you stop now, you invite the destruction of your allies. Just as bad”—she waved around again—“all these people will’ve died for nothing. If you don’t push after the Grik that got away—stay close behind them—word of this baattle will get too far ahead and we’ll face another army sooner than we would have. Sooner than we have to. Now is the time for your forced march through the forest, supporting Generaal Taal’s scouts.”

“The Grik will oppose us. Some got away.”

“Sure, but not many. We’ll brush ’em aside and keep going.” She looked at Taal for support. The cavalry commander was blinking thoughtful agreement.

“But our supply lines . . .” Kim protested. “They will not be secure in the forest, with raiders on our flanks.”

“They can be strengthened by sea, when we reach the Ungee River,” Courtney suggested tightly as the healer wiped at his wound. “Songze, and certainly Fort Taak, are far enough north that at this time of year they’re rarely affected by the blasted Dark. Move supplies from them by sea.”

General Kim seemed to consider. “That might work. It’s not as easy as you make it sound, but might be possible—if we can get the ships completed in time, or your people can supply them.” He glanced around, then back at Bekiaa. “I’ll at least do part of what you suggest and send the wounded to the rear immediately, escorted by the crippled legions.” He paused and met Bekiaa’s gaze. “What of the Twenty-third?”

“What about it?”

“It’s your legion now, you know.”

“Mine?” She was surprised. She’d expected it to be a temporary command.

“Shall it go to the rear as well?” Kim pressed.

“No, sir,” Prefect Bele interjected. “Our losses were heavy, but not crippling. We can continue.” He looked at Bekiaa. “With her in command.”

“Perhaps we can experiment with her notions,” Choon suggested. “Let what remains of the Tenth Legion be absorbed into the Twenty-third. It will be a start,” he explained to his doubtful general. “The survivors of the Tenth will resent it, of course. I do not blame them. But if anyone can combine two legions—from two armies—into one, it is her,” he added with certainty.

“I caan,” Bekiaa insisted, stepping forward. “And I’ll do it on the march—if we march at once, together.”

Kim wavered. “Very well. We will try that.” He gestured around once more. “It will take time for the rest, but I finally understand the difference between your system and ours. I did not see it before. Your First, Second, and Third Corps can operate independently, as do our armies with the same names. Except your corps, no matter how diverse, were always trained to work and fight together, as part of the same army. Even our legions, perhaps equivalent to your regiments or brigades, do not truly consider themselves part of a greater whole. Perhaps after today, and with the example you will set with the Twenty-third”—he sighed—“along with other changes I must make at last, the Armies of the Republic will begin to see themselves, itself, as the Army of the Republic. . . . If we continue the advance.” He looked at the carnage once more, hand rubbing his perpetual frown. “I truly never imagined . . .” He shook his head and stared at her. “You told me this was a terrible war, but most of us didn’t even know what war was until today. God help us if we suffer another defeat such as this, even farther from our homes.”

Bekiaa barked a laugh that sounded almost hysterical. “Defeat?” she said harshly. “I’ve seen defeat, General. Bloody as this was, and despite our mistakes, today was a victory. How do I know the difference? Because enough of us remain to ponder whether we won or lost.” She laughed again at his expression.

“She’s right, you know,” Courtney Bradford said, rising to his elbows, the eyes beneath his bushy brows deadly earnest for once. “And now you’ve had a taste. You may not’ve known what you were getting into, but you’ve got a bloody good idea now. Get used to it, General Kim, or you may as well go home after all.” He grimaced as the healer cinched the bandage tight around his calf, then regarded Kim with sad compassion. “Not that it’ll save anything. If you retire, your armies will split and your legions return to their provinces. You can’t keep them together long, doing nothing. And after your allies, our people”—he said, nodding at Bekiaa—“have lost the war, which we will without your participation in this campaign. The Grik will finally come and snap your legions up in penny packets. You know it as well as I.”

“Indeed, Generaal,” Choon said, standing. After glancing distastefully at the blood that had spoiled his fine shirt, he looked at Kim. “I must agree with the Am-baas-ador. More importantly, though the Senate may not, the Kaiser certainly will. This has been a costly first encounter, yet we learned much about the enemy; perhaps more than our allies now know. The Grik have a real army, with real soldiers and a sharply focused cause—our destruction. We must similarly redevote ourselves. Consider that the enemy likely initiated this battle fully aware they couldn’t win. They hurt us more grievously than they should have, and there were numerous reasons for that, but most revealing was that they were willing to sacrifice their entire force merely to destroy a portion of ours. That implies a dedication to their cause like none of us has seen, as well as an understanding that this war will be decided by a series of battles, not only one.” He bowed to Bekiaa. “You are used to that idea, but have you ever known the Grik to accept such a notion?” He looked back at Kim. “Only one thing hasn’t changed: there will always be more Grik, and the longer it takes us to defeat them, the more there will be.” He paused and blinked down at Courtney. “And from a purely political standpoint, we must press on. Even if our allies were not so exposed, what additional assistance could we ever expect from them if we—as they might say—took one punch and quit?”

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