BACK ON PORT the word “morale” was being written more often with a question mark than a period. The question being asked by this was almost invariably “how bad was it there?” The answer rarely was encouraging. This was hardly surprising. The Fleet, after hundreds of thousands of casualties and four years of major effort, had thought they had won a war. Its personnel, having joined in a burst of patriotic fervor, prepared to return home as conquering heroes. Instead, the men and women of the Fleet now found themselves faced with an even greater conflict. A battle against a human foe, who may have penetrated their ranks, and whose size and location were still unknowns. A war likely to last longer and be harder fought than the one they had just “won.”
Internal security forces had found literally thousands of Syndicate agents had penetrated both the Fleet and related civilian enterprises. Nor did they question that they had missed thousands more. Hypnotesting and careful interrogations found men and women loyal to their “family” everywhere. It had been too easy, with all the Alliance’s attention riveted on an alien species as the enemy, for humans planted by the Syndicate to infiltrate every vital office and department. Men who had served or worked together for years now watched one another suspiciously.
Slowly it became apparent that the new enemy, the Syndicate of Families, was a massive opponent. The interrogations of those spies captured alive painted a picture of a confederation of hundreds of worlds. No less than a total mobilization encompassing all the resources of the Alliance could be expected to prevail. A few prisoners belligerently predicted the Alliance would be smashed within months by massive Syndicate fleets. Others taunted their interrogators on how easily the Alliance had been deceived into thinking the barbaric, unsophisticated Khalia had been their real enemy. None of those captured expected to be prisoners long. A few even bragged that they had been promised appointments as planetary managers after the Alliance was conquered.
None of this did anyone’s morale any good. Several attempts were made to improve this situation. Unfortunately bad morale is more stubborn than a drill instructor. Sports failed, tours by celebrities just reminded personnel, many of whom had been shipbound for over three years, just what they were missing back home. Perhaps the worst part was not knowing just how bad things were going to get. Discipline became lax in even the elite units, while drunkenness and addiction increased dramatically.
Then as weeks passed the Syndicate made a fatal error. No major battle occurred. Small conflicts brought home to the personnel of the Fleet that they were still a victorious and effective fighting force. Men can only wait so long for defeat. Then their frustration turns to defiance. Regardless, often despite the inept attempts by the Admiralty on Port to improve their morale, ships and infantry units regained their fighting trim. Each in their own way found how to cope and prepare for the total war they now faced.