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Day 090/2544
Trojan was back at 1st Fleet/Army Force HQ by the time Commodore Stevens’ ship was in orbit around Hadley. With the After Action report on the Battle of Makassar having been transmitted while the flagship was descending into orbit, Trojan knew what had happened. He had reviewed it minute by minute, with Oracle providing analysis as the battle progressed. Trojan knew he wasn’t an expert in space combat tactics, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Stevens had screwed up. By the time the Commodore walked into Trojan’s office, the General had decided what to do about it.
“Have a seat, Commodore,” said Trojan in what he hoped was a neutral voice. Stevens’ expression suggested that he knew he wasn’t going to get a pat on the back.
“Thank you, General. I take it you want to discuss the battle.”
Trojan waited until Stevens was seated. “That’s correct. I’ve reviewed your AA report and I’ve watched the data replay. What’s your assessment of your performance, Commodore?”
Stevens sighed. “Well, in hindsight, it’s clear that I made a mistake waiting to see if the Union ships would surrender. I should have ordered additional Mark 1 missile strikes much sooner, before those ships had a chance to fire on the planet.”
Trojan was surprised that Stevens was so forthright. It took a lot of balls to admit his screw-up when his career was on the line. Whatever one might say about his tactical judgement, Trojan respected the man for his moral courage. Unfortunately that didn’t negate the fact that he had screwed up. Preliminary estimates of the damage to the industrial infrastructure on Makassar were that the entire military buildup would be delayed by at least eight months.
“I’m glad you agree with my own assessment. Under the circumstances, I don’t see that I have any alternative but to relieve you of command of the space-based forces in the Franklin Tri-system. If you have a recommendation for your replacement, I’ll consider it. You’ll be returning to Earth on the next available transport.”
“Now just a minute! Navy Chief of Staff Admiral Chenko gave me this command! I don’t recognize your authority to take it away!”
Stevens’ reaction surprised Trojan, and he shook his head sadly. His respect for Stevens had just taken a nose dive. “First of all, Admiral Chenko nominated you for that command but I, as Commander-in-Chief, First Fleet/Army Force, had the final say. Secondly, as CINC1FAF I have the authority to give and take away commands for all Army AND Navy personnel assigned to the 1FAF, and that includes you, Commodore. You can protest to the NCoS when you get back, but you WILL be on the next transport, even if I have to order marines to physically carry you on board that ship. Have I made myself clear, Commodore Stevens?”
When Stevens replied, it was clear that he had calmed down. “You may technically have the authority, General, but this decision isn’t going to go over well back on Earth. I’m not going to beg for my command, but I’ll just point out that I’ve learned a valuable lesson from this battle, and I won’t make that mistake again. Isn’t that worth some consideration?”
Trojan gave that some thought. Giving people a second chance was a principle that he had applied in his rise up through the ranks, but Oracle had just recalculated the odds of a successful outcome of this war with and without Stevens in a command position, and the odds were greater without him. Oracle hadn’t made a mistake so far, and until it did, Trojan wasn’t going to ignore its recommendations.
“Some consideration? Yes, but not enough to change my mind. You’re dismissed, Commodore.” Stevens got up and quickly walked out of the office without even bothering to salute. Technically, that by itself was an act of insubordination, but Trojan decided not to make an issue out of it. Stevens’ career would take enough of a hit from Trojan’s decision. Pursuing a charge of insubordination would just be kicking a man when he’s down.
Day 155/2544
Chenko ordered his desk computer to turn on the wall screen to the necessary media channel. He recognized the craggy but still handsome face, with the head covered in white hair, as the well-known interviewer and media talking-head that so many of Earth’s citizens listened to on a weekly basis.
“My guest tonight is retired Commodore Stacker. Commodore, as you know, the Navy has just released details of what is being called the Battle of Makassar. As someone with direct combat experience fighting the Rebels, what’s your assessment of Commodore Stevens’ performance and his removal from command?”
“Well, first of all, I want to thank you, Larry, for having me on your show. Not only do I have personal combat experience fighting the Rebels but I also have personal experience fighting beside Commodore Stevens. He was Captain of my flagship during the battle over Sparta. We all know that battle didn’t end well, and as the Officer in overall command, it was my duty to take responsibility for the loss. Now you have to understand, Larry, that there are details of that battle that were made public, and there are details that were not made public. I’m not at liberty to reveal the latter, but what I can say is that the outcome would have been very different if I had had a different Flag Captain. The top Navy Brass decided to ignore Captain Stevens’ performance and promoted him to Commodore against my recommendations. Now we see the result of that folly.”
“I see. Do you think that putting an army general in overall command of First Fleet/Army Force was a wise decision?”
Stacker smiled and spread out his hands. “Well...what can I say, Larry? An army general is in command and the first naval battle under his command goes badly? That should not surprise anyone. First Fleet/Army should have been given to a naval officer. General Trojan’s appointment is, in my humble opinion, a blunder that could jeopardize the entire war effort.”
Chenko swore out loud and ordered the display off. Rumor had it that Stacker was trying to get elected to a Federation position. Maybe it was time to leak ALL the details of his actions at Sparta. Let’s see him try to weasel his way out of that!
Day 159/2544
Belloc dropped the data tablet onto the oval conference table and looked at Sorensen. “So Sledgehammer actually accomplished its objective, at least in part?”
“It appears that way, Chancellor, although the damage assessment is only an estimate. Oracle predicts the FED buildup will be delayed by at least five months, perhaps as much as eight months. That extends our window of opportunity by the same amount, which is a good thing because it’ll give us more time to build up our stockpile of fission warheads. It also gives us more time to set up Site X and maybe even locate a suitable planet to use for shipbuilding.”
“I’m still not convinced that we shouldn’t just use a planet in an uninhabited star system that’s already been explored and surveyed. There must be thousands of them,” said Belloc. “
“Well, yes and no. Preliminary exploration has identified thousands of planets in star systems that haven’t been colonized, that’s true, but very few of those planets have had detailed mineral surveys done on them. Those kinds of surveys take time and money and were usually done in star systems that have habitable planets. We can identify the best already-surveyed planets that are in star systems that also have colonized planets, but the problem there is that the FEDs would have that very same information too. Their Majestic is bound to consider us developing a surveyed planet or moon as a shipbuilding site as our best counter-strategy and will act accordingly,” said Sorensen.
Belloc leaned back and thought about that for a while. “Okay, so we don’t pick any known high source of minerals. Instead, we’ll pick a lesser but still usable source of minerals that has other things to recommend it, like proximity to a colonized planet for example. There has to be a lot of those. Even if the FEDS already have the same information, their chances of identifying the right one will be slim, right?”
Sorensen nodded. “That might work. I’ll have our Oracle do a search and come up with a list of candidates.”
“Fine. Now let’s talk about the proposed attack on Earth. Is there a name for this operation yet?”
“Operation Sorcerer. Admiral Janicot’s staff is recommending that Sorcerer kick off on Day 233 of next year.”
“I suppose Lee is going to be in charge of Sorcerer?” asked Belloc.
Sorensen shrugged. “He is the most senior line officer we have now that Montoya’s no longer with us, and he did accomplish his mission at Hadley.”
“Okay, then. I’m approving the operation and the proposed execution date. What’s next on the agenda?”
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Day 105/2545
It was raining again when Trojan’s groundcar pulled up to the entrance to 1st Fleet/Army Force Backup Command. The carefully designed tunnel entrance into the hillside had a rocky overhang that not only protected vehicles and people from the rain but also hid the entrance from surveillance by hostile spacecraft or satellites. Not that it really mattered. It was already obvious from the last attack that the Union knew the FEDs were building something here. Trojan just hoped they didn’t know that Majestic was here and was now operational. As he got out of the vehicle to allow the biometric scanners to confirm his identity, he nodded to the guard.
“How’s the new baby, Samuels?” The guard smiled with pleasure that a three star general remembered his name and the fact that his wife had recently given birth to their first child.
“She and her mother are doing just fine, General. I’ll tell her you asked about the baby. How come it seems like it’s always raining when you come here, General?”
Before Trojan could answer, there was a flash of lightning and the sound of thunder. He laughed and pointed to the new 1st Fleet/Army Force unit patch on his shoulder. The guard noticed that the patch had a gauntleted fist holding lightning bolts and laughed too.
“Got it, General. You’re cleared to go in.”
Trojan thanked him and walked through the doorway after the round, collapsed-metal door had slowly rolled to one side. Seconds later he was descending a very long and fast escalator. When the escalator slowed down at the bottom, he was met by his deputy in charge of Majestic Operations.
“I still don’t understand why you couldn’t just transmit Majestic’s output to HQ instead of me having to come all the way out here in person,” said Trojan.
“You’ll understand once you see it, General.”
Trojan noticed that his deputy had a strange tone to his voice. Three hours later, in his office, Trojan finished reading Majestic’s report. My God, we had no idea what this machine would be really capable of, he thought to himself. After pondering the implications of Majestic’s recommendations with the help of a couple of stiff drinks, he called his Deputy into his office.
“Did you read the whole thing,” asked Trojan.
His Deputy nodded but said nothing.
“I don’t see any alternative but to follow the plan, even if it does mean violating the oath I took when I put on this uniform. I need to know if I can count on you to cross that line with me.”
“We’ll be called traitors, you know,” said the Deputy.
“Yes, but if we pull it off right, we’ll be vindicated, and our honor will be restored. I hope but can’t promise that will happen in our lifetimes.”
The Deputy shrugged. “If it doesn’t, then it doesn’t. Losing my honor is a small price to pay for saving billions of lives. That’s how I look at it.”
“Yeah. That’s how I look at it too. I’d have to seriously question anyone’s sanity or ethics who reads this report and doesn’t feel the same way. We’re going to have to show this report to a small group of key people, but we can’t let it become common knowledge. You know what Majestic’s prediction is if that occurs.” He saw his deputy shudder. If Majestic was right, then widespread knowledge of the highly probable and bleak future for Humanity would result in an even worse long-term future. Instead of a couple of centuries of decline ending with anarchy followed by a slow recovery, Human civilization would enter a long period of chaos and barbarism lasting close to a thousand years. Each colonized planet would lose all technology, eventually reaching a state where the inhabitants would be fighting each other with swords or maybe even clubs for land, food and naked power. Trojan was determined to prevent that at any cost. Majestic’s analysis said that there was only one way to prevent the decline. A strong, centralized autocratic power structure had to be built that had the resources and the will to crush any resurgence for planetary independence. In other words, the Federation’s semi-democratic, oligarchical structure had to be replaced with an Empire that had one individual at the top. The System States Union, however high-minded its guiding principles might be, was the slippery slope that would lead to a new Dark Age for billions of people over many generations as newly independent planets eventually turned on each other with jump-capable warships armed with nuclear or biological weapons.
Trojan pointed to the data tablet on his desk. “Majestic says that Romanov is the best choice to replace Stevens in command of the Task Force. I want you to arrange to bring him here. He’s more likely to believe Majestic’s report if he can see Majestic with his own eyes. You and I will then sit down with him and carefully brief him on what he has to do when the SSU attacks Earth. Any questions?” There were none.
When his Deputy left, Trojan poured himself another drink but only filled the glass half full this time. If he was going to make himself Emperor, he had to keep his wits about him and resist the temptation to drown his regrets in alcohol or some other substance. Who needed honor anyway? His instructors at the Academy had talked about honor as if it were a living thing. He took a sip of his drink and shook his head. Rumors of honor, that’s all they ever were.
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Day 144/2545
Drake stepped off the boarding ramp and quickly walked over to the delegation that was waiting for him. As he did so, he cursed the Zanzibar Colony administrators who were being difficult and thereby delaying Jutland’s departure. Every additional hour his ship was delayed lessened the chance that she would get back in time to join Lee’s Task Force for Operation Sorcerer. He saw the colony’s Chief Administrator start towards him. Before Drake could speak, the CA beat him to it.
“Commander, this is outrageous! You bring two freighters full of scientists and engineers here and expect us to have enough new accommodations ready! We told Sparta after the first shipment that we couldn’t get ready for another batch that quickly! The Head of the Project is insisting that the colonists take in the personnel who can’t be accommodated elsewhere. We did that with the first batch, and the colonists didn’t like being forced to do it. I was elected on the promise that it wouldn’t be allowed to happen again.”
Drake stopped walking and looked around at the city in the background. This was his second trip to Zanzibar, and he remembered what the city looked like the last time he was here. There was more new, barracks-style housing along the edge of the spaceport but not as much as there should have been. On the other side of the spaceport, he saw a new building whose function wasn’t obvious.
“What’s that new, round building over there?” he said, pointing to it. The CA’s annoyed look suddenly changed to something else. Embarrassment?
“That? Ah, that’s ah...our new cultural center. We were already working on it when you were here the last time, Commander.”
Drake shook his head. “No. I have a very good memory, and I don’t remember seeing any construction at that location last time I was here. You people started that AFTER I left, knowing full well what was expected of you in terms of new construction for the war effort. How many barracks could you have built with the materials and labor used for that cultural center?”
The CA said nothing and started shifting his weight back and forth from one leg to the other. When it was obvious that the CA wasn’t going to answer the question, Drake turned to look at the Research Institute Project Head, who was standing a couple of meters away.
“How many of your people don’t have a place to live?”
The Project Head stepped forward. “Eighty-nine, but it’s not just living accommodations that are behind schedule. Some of the laboratories aren’t ready either. We’re not even sure we can find enough space to store all the equipment properly. If we leave it out in the open, it might become damaged from rain and/or the heat.”
Drake turned back to the CA who was clearly very uncomfortable. “God dammit, do you people not realize that there’s a war on! Zanzibar joined the SSU voluntarily, but you’re acting like you don’t give a fuck! This research institute just might win the war for us if these people are allowed to do what they’ve come here to do!” Drake stopped talking long enough to take a deep breath and calm down. He stepped closer to the CA until they were only a few centimeters apart. The CA refused to look him in the eye.
“Now you listen to me carefully,” said Drake in a calmer voice. “I don’t care what you have to do to solve this problem, but you better solve it and do it fast. My ship can’t stay here to wait and see if your colony lives up to its obligations, but I promise you this, Chief Administrator. If the SSU loses the war because we didn’t make a key technological breakthrough in time, I will personally come back here and shoot you myself. Look me in the eye, dammit!” He waited until the CA met his gaze. “Do I look like I’m bluffing?”
The CA shook his head. When he spoke, his voice was filled with fear. “We may be able to set up temporary accommodations in the cultural center and ah...I’m sure we’ll find room for the equipment too. We’ll start work on the barracks right away, Commander.”
Before Drake could say anything, the Project Head interjected. “No, the laboratories should come first.”
“Do you agree with that?” asked Drake. The CA nodded.
“Good! Now if both of you will excuse me. There’s a battle coming up that we can’t afford to lose, and I don’t want to get there late.” With a nod to the Project Head, Drake turned around and sprinted up Jutland’s boarding ramp.
