A long time later Mariel Hougen came downstairs, looking more shapely than Garrick ever remembered.  Her clean hair fell to slender shoulders and her trim dress uniform hugged her body in a delightfully feminine manner as she approached.  She carried a duffel bag that she dropped on the lobby floor.  Lieutenant Hougen smiled sweetly, straightened her blouse and held out her arms to embrace Garrick.  “Congratulations, lieutenant!” she said.  “Brenna gave me the good news!”

    Her embrace lingered just a bit longer than it should have.  Garrick, who’d already felt aroused by Brenna’s farewell, gently backed away from Mariel in a manner he hoped would establish a respected boundary.  “Thank you!” he replied.

    Mariel picked up on the physical cue and tightened her lips in response.  Nothing in her arsenal of charms successfully dislodged the firm grip of Brenna’s affection on this boy’s heart, and in moments of self-reflection, Mariel admitted that in addition to his handsome face and fit physique, that fierce loyalty formed a large part of the reason she found Garrick  attractive.  “So, we’re all off to Kameron?” she more stated than asked.

    Garrick shrugged.  “I didn’t see your name on the list.  Are you going too?”

    “I’ll be translating for Colonel Adler and performing intelligence duties,” Mariel replied.  “The command roll doesn’t detail all the support staff.”  She tilted her head to the side, brushing an imaginary bit of dust from Garrick’s new insignia.  “And you’ll be leading infantry, I suppose?”

    “That’s the plan,” Garrick responded.  “It looks like we’ll be the first to go in.”

    “Oh,” she said, sounding either disappointed, fearful, or both.  “That puts you in Captain Engel’s Alpha Company.  The full division won’t be ready for a couple of weeks yet, but the Lithians need boots on the ground right now.”

    Garrick wrinkled his forehead.  “What?  We’re not going in full strength?”

    Mariel shook her head, and in doing so, her lovely hair danced seductively.  “No, Garrick.  Most of the units haven’t even been formed yet . . .”  And once the words were spoken, Mariel immediately regretted saying them.

    This information became the second indicator of an increasingly desperate situation in Northern Kameron.  The fact that two dozen new officers received a Readiness Order without fully completing their training was one thing, but being sent to war without sufficient numbers to dominate the battlefield sounded a lot like what the Tamarian army had experienced against the Azgaril a few months earlier.  This time, however, they wouldn’t have the weather on their side.  “So we’re cannon fodder?” he asked.

    “No,” Mariel replied, her authoritative tone deliberately squelching his sarcasm.  “We’ll serve as a deterrent.  The initial deployment involves a full brigade sent to aid in the defense of Brenna’s family estate, where the threat to Tamarian interests is perceived as most critical right now.  Five thousand of our soldiers, including me, you and your platoon, will supplement a Lithian force roughly the same size.  We will represent a credible threat to the Kamerese rebels, and they should think twice about attacking us.”

    “Hmm,” Garrick mused, correctly evaluating Mariel’s bluster.  “I’ve read that rebel troop strengths are estimated in the hundreds of thousands.  An army that size would hardly consider a supplemented brigade formidable.  In fact, some rebel commanders might think our limited forces present the perfect opportunity to humiliate King Alejo’s ally.”

    “Don’t patronize me,” Mariel replied.  “Those figures represent the rebel armies nationwide.  This is a very broad-based revolt, and I’m sure that even a reformed grunt like you understands that not all of the rebels roam the northeastern part of the country.”

    Though he had no right to push the issue, and knew Mariel had no right to tell him anything significant, Garrick pressed his luck.  “But you have to admit that I have good reason for concern.  We both know that a single brigade can’t defend territory as vast as the Velez estate, so why won’t you tell me what we’re up against?”

    Mariel didn’t like the direction this conversation had taken.  “Captain Engels will brief you at the appropriate time.”

    As she turned to leave, Garrick stopped her with a firm hand on her upper arm.  “You started this, lieutenant.  Don’t play innocent with me like you did when we first met.  TAC Vogel admitted that you’d been assigned to watch Brenna and keep her away from me, but we’re in a far more serious situation now and the time for secret spy games ended when I pinned the brass on this afternoon.
 
    “My men and I are about to put our lives on the line in a foreign country, something none of us has ever done before.  Now, I’ve long suspected you’re more than just a linguist, and that you know more than you’re letting on.  It’s only right that I know what kind of enemy we’re going to face, and I suspect you’re well aware of the numbers we’ll be up against.”

    Mariel glared at him until he let go.  “I liked you better before you got your promotion, Garrick.  You did as you were told and didn’t stick your nose into places where it doesn’t belong.”

    “Well, the stakes are higher now,” he replied.  “I have a platoon to command, so this is not just about me anymore.  We’re supposed to be on the same side, so why the secrecy?”

    “Decisions about what to do with you and your men are made well above your pay grade,” she snapped.  Mariel could play hardball when she needed to do so, and she had far more experience in this realm than he did.  “Take your orders and do as you’re told, and before you get your underwear in a wad, understand that no one can know how many rebel forces will array against us until we get there.  But I promise that you’ll have your hands full doing your own job, lieutenant.  Focus on leading your men.  Let the senior officers worry about the disposition of enemy forces.”

    “Point taken, ma’am,” Garrick replied, his formal address both an indicator of his willingness to capitulate and an implied complaint that her informality led them both to the point where she essentially needed to pull rank in order to shut him up.

    Mariel felt wounded by the manner in which he responded, but she didn’t say anything about this directly.  As someone deeply involved in the military analysis of the Kamerese Civil War, Mariel not only understood the complexity of the conflict and the overwhelming numerical superiority enjoyed by the rebels, she also knew that their weapons were more modern than any yet employed against the Tamarians.

    The upcoming fight, in which Garrick’s unit represented the figurative tip of the Tamarian spear, would occur among forces more evenly matched than had been the case during the Winter Saradon Campaign.  Mariel didn’t have the heart to tell him that she expected higher casualties, difficult and persistent logistical problems, and a far longer conflict than had been the case with the Azgaril.  Because she liked him and didn’t want to see him hurt, Mariel wished that she had the influence to assign him elsewhere.

    Though she’d been right about senior officers making decisions about the order of battle, Garrick’s superlative record in combat exercises and his knowledge of the Lithian culture singled him out as the type of platoon leader expected to be most effective in Kameron.  Colonel Weiss deliberately promoted him, despite his academic difficulties, for these reasons.  Whereas the uncanny leadership ability that Garrick consistently demonstrated illustrated his suitability as an officer, and his courage inspired the men under his command, his charisma made higher-ranking officers who knew him very reluctant to commit the young man to battle.  TAC Vogel and Mariel, had they ever discussed the issue, would both have preferred to defer Garrick’s involvement in combat until he matured, until his judgment gave him the ability to think carefully and weigh options before responding.

    Ironically however, Garrick’s tendency to make the most tactically intelligent decisions quickly and consistently lay at the root of his success.  Slowing that process down in an environment where decisiveness often made the difference between life and death would have made him a less capable combat leader.

    For this reason Mariel appraised Garrick wistfully.  She feared for his safety, not only because she liked him herself, but also knowing that her friend, Brenna, would be emotionally crushed if anything terrible happened to the young man.

    “Take care of yourself,” Mariel said softly.  She shouldered her duffel bag without another word and hurried out of the dormitory, lest he witness the tears that welled up in her eyes spilling onto her cheeks.