Vice Admiral Jaruzelska was her normal brisk self, bustling in to take her seat. Not for the first time, Michael wondered how she kept going. “Morning, everyone. Seats, please,” she said. “Everyone here?” she asked, turning to her chief of staff.
“Yes, sir,” Captain Tuukkanen replied.
“Let’s get on. Right, Captain. Let’s look at the results of the latest simulations and see what they tell us about our chances of pulling this one off.”
Michael sighed softly. The chances of Operation Opera succeeding? If the sims were right, they were not good, not good at all.
“… so what we’re seeing, Admiral, is consistent. Using multiple task groups to divert the Hammer defenses before the dreadnoughts destroy the plant’s nearspace defenses is the only way to give the assault group—the ships tasked with actually destroying the antimatter plant—a clear run in. Any way we look at it, that is the right way, the best way … I think the only way.”
Captain Tuukkanen paused for a moment. “We cannot assume that the Hammers will leave Assault Group alone,” he continued. “This is one of the best-defended facilities in humanspace. It will be hard to crack its defenses, and anyone heading for the antimatter plant is going to get attacked. That much we know, and that’s why the sims are showing us failing more often than not. But even though they suffer heavy losses, the dreadnoughts leading the attack get through practically every time, while Assault Group does not. That leaves us in control of the space around the antimatter plant but not with the assets to destroy it. All too often, those assets are in an Assault Group that fails to get through. It foll—”
A voice cut Tuukkanen off. It was Perkins. “I cannot agree, Captain. Why should the dreadnoughts get through and Assault Group not? It does not make any sense.” Perkins glanced around the room, a half smile on his face making it clear that what he had said was so obvious that it really did not need any justification.
“Sir, if I may?” Michael said. Jaruzelska waved him to continue. Perkins scowled his disapproval; Michael ignored him. “The dreadnoughts get through because they can survive attacks that a conventional heavy cruiser cannot. That’s been proved not just in endless design reviews but in the sims and in combat. The data cannot be argued with. Therefore, the most likely outcome of Opera is that dreadnoughts make it through when nobody else does. That means they must have the tools to finish the job if Assault Group does not get through.”
When he finished, Michael wondered if he might not have been a tad too firm given that he was arguing with an admiral. Screw it, screw Perkins, he decided. Destroying the Hammer antimatter plant was far too important to worry about the man’s feelings.
“Admiral Perkins?” Jaruzelska said, a faint smile ghosting across her face.
Perkins scowled some more. “I firmly believe, Admiral, that if the dreadnoughts make it, so will Assault Group. That means we can finish the job. I think what we have here is something we’ve all seen before. In the end, simulations are just mathematical models, and we can pretty much make them say what we want. What we have here is just that. Too many negative assumptions producing unrealistically high probabilities of failure. Who knows why, but the sims are wrong. Assault Group will get through.”
“Excuse me, sir,” Tuukkanen said, glaring at Perkins, his voice choked with outrage. “Are you suggesting the sims have been rigged to make the dreadnoughts look good? If you are, sir, I strongly—”
“That is enough, Captain Tuukkanen,” Jaruzelska said firmly, “I’m sure that is not what the admiral is suggesting.”
“Pig’s ass,” Michael muttered. “That’s precisely what Perkins was suggesting.”
“Thank you, sir,” Perkins said. “Like I was saying, we all know overly pessimistic assumptions can—and usually do—lead to more fallback planning, more resources diverted away from the mission to provide ‘just in case’ backup, and a loss of focus on the main game. If we make this thing too complicated, it’ll fall apart just because it is too complicated. And just so we are clear, Captain Tuukkanen, I am not suggesting the sims have been rigged to make dreadnoughts look good … though some might think that.”
Michael watched intently. Setting aside Perkins’s cheap shot about rigging the sims to favor the dreadnoughts, his main point was a good one. Yes, of course Perkins wanted to reduce the dreadnoughts’ role in Opera to a bare minimum—for all the wrong reasons—but some of what he said made sense. He was an experienced combat commander; he knew from firsthand experience that complexity sowed the seeds of failure just as much as oversimplification did. But keeping Opera simple by assuming that Assault Group would always make it through would be dumb. They might not; that possibility must be allowed for.
Michael was pleased to see that Jaruzelska agreed; she turned to Perkins.
“Simplicity is a virtue, Admiral,” she said, “but only up to a point. To assume that either Assault Group gets through to the plant or nobody does would be a serious mistake. The sims show there is always the chance that Assault Group is interdicted by the Hammers, and if it is interdicted, the dreadnoughts must be able to complete the mission.”
Michael enjoyed Perkins’s response, that of a man who had just sucked a large and bitter lemon. “Admiral!” Perkins protested, “the operation is overly-complex as it is. It would be a mistake to make it even more complicated.”
“I agree, I absolutely agree. So we need a simple solution to the problem, one that has no impact outside the dreadnoughts themselves, one that requires no detailed planning and that has no command overhead. Any ideas?”
There was an awkward pause. Afterward, Michael could not explain why his discussion with Sedova about the role of Caesar’s Ghost came to mind, but it did.
“Yes sir,” he said. “Assault Group’s mission remains unchanged. If they get through, they will destroy the Hammer plant. If they fail to get through, the dreadnoughts will have to take over. We already carry an assault lander. Give us a platoon of marines and a demolition team. They will be a last resort, but it’s better than nothing.”
“Umm,” Jaruzelska said. “Admiral Perkins?”
“I still believe it is unnecessary,” Perkins said ungraciously, “but …” His voice trailed off.
“I’ll assume that is a yes, shall I?” Jaruzelska said drily. “So that puts your complement up to … yes, up to fifty-one. Michael?”
“No problem, sir,” Michael said. “Temporary accommodation modules. The marines will not be onboard long enough for it to be a problem.”
“Good. You have twenty-four hours to work up a detailed proposal. Now, to other issues.”