The UAS is readying a strike. The buildup is big enough that they aren't even attempting to hide it. Forces mass on the other side of the lines far enough back that we can't hit them. Our scouts push the edges of what they can see as it is, and enough bodies thrown at the defenses might actually be enough to overcome them. It's not really a matter of it being possible, but rather of the willingness of the UAS to spend lives. Put a large enough amount of human death and suffering against any problem and chances are good you'll eventually solve it.
Things are calming here at home somewhat. Kincaid wasn't joking when he mentioned working his ass off to clean up the remaining swarm inside the defensive perimeter. Far beyond that, he has led units out into the unprotected county to thin the herd as much as possible. The guy needs a vacation, I think. Hell, we could all use a break from our lives at this point.
That's a funny thought, you know? I remember the stress of everyday life before, paying taxes and working and dealing with the thousand pieces of paperwork that came with civilization. I'm not saying I wouldn't trade what we have for what we had--I would, in a heartbeat--but it does give some interesting perspective. Things are much more dangerous now, but it's a clear sort of stress. You know where you stand: you against the world. There's no worry from a million tiny sources. It's all down to what matters most, which is survival. A big, nasty problem but in the end simpler and more straightforward.
I'm trying not to stress over the impending attack by the UAS. The logical part of me knows that it won't hit us so far away, but the fear I feel for the men and women on the border can't be described in English. I worry for them, I worry for what might happen to the rest of us should the front line fall. I don't doubt that if it came to a full-scale invasion your average Union citizen would be more than a match for your average UAS soldier, but the size and scope of that struggle pushes the limits of what my brain can handle. It's a nightmare scenario, and I'm trying hard not to dream it.
I'm in meetings all day tomorrow, which is a wonderful way to spend my day off from the blog. The gash on my leg is keeping me from doing much physical work, so Will has me on his war council for the moment. My opinions apparently matter to him, and since I'm about the only person with a functional laptop right now, I can track ideas and take notes easily. I think the technology won me a spot more than my keen analytical capabilities. I hope to have something more about the attack to come when Sunday's post comes around.
Keep sharp, everyone. Now is not the time to falter.