[color=007236][b]General James Hsu – Shady Sands – Presidential Manor Briefing Room[/b][/color]

The briefing room was probably, General Hsu reflected, a mirror of the state of the affairs of the New Californian Republic. The elite sitting in plush fancy chairs, gorging themselves on snacks, the décor full of wear and tear, a few paintings that looked rebellious in their lean, a growing mould in the corner, a threat to the room that seemingly no one cared about.

Was he the last sane man in the Republic?

It was times like this that the thought of retirement appealed to him, though he doubted there was any room to be farmed. Just retirement in a small apartment, teaching maybe as a spare time thing to keep his mind sharp? Perhaps that was another thing wrong with his country, a lack of motivation beyond a comfortable retirement. Apparently, the birth rate was slowing and already there was talk of a possible increase in social security taxes to pay for a hypothetical pension-heavy economy. Hsu didn’t know much about economics, well, peacetime economics that was.

Oh, he wasn’t mad enough to think that all the NCR needed was a good war, or some political revolution. The system worked, it just needed tweaking. Small scale redistribution, a focus less on the farms, let them collectivise, update the agriculture, and get people into the cities and into the factories, strengthen the industrialisation process. A little bit and piece from each political party raging across the electoral registers, that would be his manifesto. But he wasn’t a politician, he was just an old soldier, getting ready to fade away, as some pre-war general had said or something.

“Presidential Salute! Ten-hut!”

The soldier on the door, called the words, saluted, causing the soldiers in the room to rise to their feet and salute, the politicians in the room just standing and trying to look dignified. In walked the President, taking a seat at the head of the table, waving them to be as they were. Hsu waited until Winters had sat, before taking his own seat. The President glanced over the briefing papers in his hands, before looking up at him.

“General Hsu, an overview please, only one major agenda today, the Colorado border?”

“Yes Mister President, but we’ll get the usual stuff out of the way first if that’s alright sir?”

“Yes, yes.”

Winters murmured the words, leaning back in his chair, his eyes peering over his spectacles, glancing half at the room and half at his papers as Hsu started the briefing proper.

“Oregon Territorial Command reports no news, other than a request for some spare airplane parts to allow an overflight over Seattle, see what the status of the city is, whether there’s any major raider movement in the city that could spill over towards the border.”

“Granted, Baja want the same?”

“No sir, just to rotate in some rangers in place of heavy troopers, I concur with Colonel Dhatri, with the influx of settlers, and following on from our last slash and burn operations in the south, dissident elements are now confined to light infantry forces. Rangers can respond faster, and we need speed over armour for light infantry tactics.”

“Approved. Reno next?”

“Yessir. Nothing new there, I believe that we should use our ranger elements in Reno for the swap with Baja, show the border tribes, and any 80s, a flying of the flag. A show of force, maybe even authorise a single bombing strike against some unlucky raiders, something for the papers as well?”

Winters nodded, Hsu was always careful, the last general, Oliver, had always been a political animal, but he tried to avoid it where he could. But even he knew that the military had to cooperate a little with the administration to get them to agree to some actions. If the two converged, all the better for them both. Clearing his throat, James glanced down at his final piece of the brief, before speaking.

“Now. Colorado.”

The mood changed, from lazy disinterest, to a wary watchfulness. The Legion was always a worrisome point for everyone. They could count on House and his tin-cans to guard much of their flank against the Legion, but the river was always worrying for them.

“I’d like to engage the engineering corps in fortifying the border. The current network is, adequate, but in need of updating. And as we wind down in northern Baja later this year, I’d like permission to move those units onto the border, keeps them near to Baja if needs be, and helps shore up the line against infiltration attempts.”

“Infiltration attempts, I thought the border was secure against attack?”

Hsu nodded.

“It is, but at night, we’ve received word of back and forth crossings by single individuals. Whether legion spies, or just smugglers, we think the latter, we don’t know, better safe than sorry.”

President Winters pursed his lips, before looking at the rest of the room.

“That will be all for today for the rest of you. Could Hsu and I have the room please?”

A few frowns at that, but the politicians and soldiers stood, left the room, leaving the President and the General alone. Winters set down his briefing file, looking at Hsu over his spectacles, who set down his own briefing file.

“Everything is fine with the border, really?”

Hsu gave a sigh.

“The border’s secure, but it’s static. We haven’t changed it in years, and the legion has changed since then. We need to repair some watch posts, build some new ones, look at considering a minefield or two, clear some debris to enable clear fields of fire in one zone. Nothing major, but not a minor job either, and some outriders to catch any border-crossers are needed, likely just smugglers, but if, just if they aren’t, we need to be sure.”

The President looks away, idly taps his fingers on the faded desk before them, half-heartedly polished, a veneer of dust and sheen.

“Election’s coming up, I don’t think I’ll win it. You voting Hsu?”

Hsu frowns, speaks truthfully, if a little slowly, not sure where the President planned to go with this sudden tangent.

“I don’t vote sir; at least I don’t plan too yet, not till I’m not employed by the government anymore.”

Winter smiles tiredly, amused by Hsu’s admission, but not enough to laugh.

“Well, if you change your mind on it, think of voting for me please?”

Hsu nodded after a moment of thought. Winter sighed.

“If I could just convince the rest of undecided, I could at least scrape re-election. Still, so long as its Moore and not one of the others. You’ll get your engineers, if anything, at least it might win me some construction union support for ordering some new equipment for the army. Though god knows what the Legion think they’re up to nowadays. More bothered with Mexico, aren’t they? Well I don’t think we have any plans in Central America, do we? That’s the last thing we’d need, ending up on a collision course with the legion there.”