Chapter 1: Officer Training

Michael Deschenes stood out on the frozen ice of his new command and home planet, Thule, clad in a heated white parka, white snow pants and heavy white snow boots, Colonel's eagles on his epaulets. Beside him stood his 2IC, Lieutenant-Colonel Charles (Chaz) Desrocher, likewise clad in arctic gear. The third member of the group, "Butch" Blondell, only differed in rank marking and gender from the two officers: her shoulders bore Sergeant-Major's stripes. All three wore their hoods up, for the wind was up this morning and bitingly cold even by Thule's somewhat extreme standards. Only a fool went around on the surface of Thule without snow-blindness goggles, and none of the three experienced Confederacy Marines were fools.

Suddenly, the first object fell from the sky. Colonel Deschenes turned to Sergeant-Major Blondell and politely ordered, "Advise Lieutenant Carruthers the new officers have started to land."

"Aye-aye, Sir," acknowledged Butch, who turned to communicate the news to the base logistics officer.

"And advise all officers, staff meeting at 11:00 hours."

Thule was a fairly new base, with new risks and new opportunities. The Brigade itself was new: the 12^th, the Chosen Frozen. Each officer and NCO had voluntarily transferred into the unit. They had been trained in arctic or at least winter combat operations back on Earth, some with their old combat units, others through an agreement with the Canadian, American and Dutch governments in war games stretching across the Arctic Circle from Greenland to Alaska, as realistic as their NATO taskmasters could make it.

And now they were ready to begin building a brigade specializing in combat on ice planets.

Michael stood at the head of the table of the Officers' Mess. Chaz, who was not only Brigade XO but doubled as CO of the engineering battalion, sat to his right. Sharing the head table were the five lieutenant colonels of the three infantry battalions, one armoured battalion and the artillery battery, and at the far end Butch, the only non-officer in the room aside from concubines serving coffee and tea. She had been invited at the strong suggestion from Michael to the Mess Officer. At the other tables, set up at a right angle to the head table, sat the commanders of the six companies that made up each battalion and their lieutenants who commanded the headquarters companies, and the ensigns who headed up the other four platoons. With over 260 officers present, the room was quite full.

"Alright, everyone, if I can have your attention," Michael's voice rang out as it cut through the clamour of conversation. "Most of you are brand-new to this planet, so let's show you what we've got." Those 'new to this planet' would be the lieutenants and ensigns. A large 3-D representation of Thule appeared. One dot glowed blue; another number of dots glowed green.

"The blue dot is our current location, Camp Shackleton, located on top of the highest mesa on the planet. It gives us solid ground to work with, without having to drill down to find bedrock. The frequent winds help keep the snow clear. We've got one dome, with the corridors to the residential pods running out from there. As our Marine units arrive, their pods will land in prepared trenches, link up to the primary tunnels and be covered against the snow, wind and cold. There's a secondary tunnel that girdles the Camp and can be used as a backup, and that also allows us access to the trenches that surround us here."

He brought Camp Shackleton up in closer detail. "The central dome houses all administration, our indoor training areas, sports facilities, messes and the dependants' school. There's a pair of slidewalks that ring the dome's perimeter, and a parade square across from the Camp Headquarters. We have a theatre that not only can be used for Marine training, but for live plays and recreational movies."

He paused for a sip of water as the picture reverted to a revolving Thule. "The green dots are remote facilities we're going to use both as advanced training and as weapons caches. They'll allow us to disperse our strength and cover more of the planet in the event the Sa'arm get curious about this place. They're called Martello towers."

He then had the AI bring up the schematic for a typical Martello tower – it resembled its namesake not in the slightest. "As you can see, it consists of buried and camouflaged bunkers made from pods, four conventional cannon in twin dual-purpose turrets covering the cardinal points, slit trenches and a landing spot capable of handling anything up to and including a Panther. There are four barracks pods, a command-and-control pod, a medical pod, a general supplies pod and an armoury pod. Each pod has entrances at both ends, and together they form the spokes of a circle. The hub is a general assembly area with access points to the inner trenches, the outer rim is a tunnel through which we access the reserve trenches and the turrets. The outer trenches are just beyond the turrets."

Michael then brought the lights up. "The purpose of the Martello Towers is to turn this planet into a galactic pincushion. Wherever the Sa'arm try to land, there will be a base of support nearby where we can stage attacks from, and where we can retreat to. We don't have all the Martello towers we want, yet, and probably never will, but the more we have the better we can defend our home.

"And make no mistake, this is our home. We are going to defend it, just as strongly as we are going to counterattack against the Swarm incursion."

The audience reacted with cheers, table thumping and general growls of agreement.

"Now, over the next few weeks we're going to be receiving our allotment of troops. The first of five Kilo-class transports, the CSS Grey Goose, is arriving within the next week. We've got to sort through that lot and assign them between the various battalions as we give them their basic training. And we have a bunch of newly-minted officers to finish putting through their paces first so that they can be good leaders for these raw recruits."

With the first troops coming so soon, the training got down to business right after lunch.

"Eyes FRONT! Turn to the RIGHT in column of route, RIGHT TURN!" Sergeant-Major Blondell's voice turned to one of outrage as one hapless ensign from the 1201^st Infantry Battalion managed to turn left in total confusion. "YOUR MARINE RIGHT, YOU SLACK AND IDLE INDIVIDUAL!" Pause to add insult to injury. "SIR."