I apologize to my readers for the long wait. School, work and some of my other writing has been taking up the time I would normally have liked to dedicate to this blog. Here's a small post I finally got around to finishing. As usual, any constructive comments/criticism is welcome.
Thank You,
Jakub Simacek
The recent resurrection of the capital ship as a weapon of war has shocked many in the upper echelons of the Confederate military, but in fact, it must be professed that it is an altogether logical step forward, one in the making for decades, if not centuries. Modern disruptive shielding, or flicker fields as the navy men generally call them, allow ships thus equipped to survive all but the most powerful, concentrated firepower. The only disadvantage to this system is the immense power consumption, taxing the power systems of a vessel immensely. The strain is made worse by the near universal use of lasers for point defense, as well as the ubiquitous blink drive, an absolutely mandatory item for space travel over any significant distance, which, as was seen in the Sevarnian Conflict, is becoming a more common occurrence and will most likely remain a factor in all future wars. This progress has meant that only ships of considerable bulk can house the massive reactors necessary to maintain such systems, as well as the mountings for weapons powerful enough to defeat their similarly equipped peers.
Thank You,
Jakub Simacek
The recent resurrection of the capital ship as a weapon of war has shocked many in the upper echelons of the Confederate military, but in fact, it must be professed that it is an altogether logical step forward, one in the making for decades, if not centuries. Modern disruptive shielding, or flicker fields as the navy men generally call them, allow ships thus equipped to survive all but the most powerful, concentrated firepower. The only disadvantage to this system is the immense power consumption, taxing the power systems of a vessel immensely. The strain is made worse by the near universal use of lasers for point defense, as well as the ubiquitous blink drive, an absolutely mandatory item for space travel over any significant distance, which, as was seen in the Sevarnian Conflict, is becoming a more common occurrence and will most likely remain a factor in all future wars. This progress has meant that only ships of considerable bulk can house the massive reactors necessary to maintain such systems, as well as the mountings for weapons powerful enough to defeat their similarly equipped peers.
-excerpt from Captain Mott's History of Modern Naval Warfare 2544-2650
The
man, if you could call him that, looked calmly at Stella, or so she
imagined. The steel fingers of his left hand steepled upward to meet
the organic ones of his right. The beetle black orbs that made up his
augmentic
eyes constricted and dilated in and out
of focus, causing her to shudder. The
result of the “industrial accident”. Stella was no fool and knew
it was no such thing, but it was the official story. He could have had normal eyes, either cloned or mechanical replacements that could not have been recognizable from the ones he had been born with. But he had seen the loss as an opportunity, and adjusted accordingly. Although it was a rarely spoken fact, the mans augmentics gave him an unparalleled range of sensory input. Gabriel
Anders was not Albrecht Skor, that was clear
as day. Short
and skeletal, he cut a gaunt figure, his mechanical augmentations
appearing fuller than his frail mortal frame. He was the most different of the trifecta. Salazar, a psychopath who
took everything as a joke, Albrecht with his dogmatic world-view and
explosive outbursts, and then Gabriel, “the Engineer”. He exuded
absolute calm, unflinching, waiting. The metal hand moved in a slow, measured motion, indicating the empty seat alongside his desk, the only one in the whole room.
“It's
a bit of a mess, haven't really had time to keep things clean.”
Anders said in a matter of fact tone. He had
never despised her with the same vehemence displayed by Albrecht or
Salazar, always remaining polite and collected. Somehow, she always suspected that he had not opposed the merger, but had been drowned out by Albrecht and Salazar's pride. Despite this he was the only one of the trio that actually struck her
with a degree of fear. In all her years of espionage and intelligence gathering,
Stella had never met an individual quite like him. He was not a
military man, a fact evident in both his physique and the appearance of his office. Unlike the austere quarters occupied by both Salazar and Albrecht, the room was large and cluttered with machinery, computers, papers, and various detritus. It was an absolute mess, unfitting for a man in charge of one of the Imperiums most powerful organizations, yet the fact seemed not to bother him in the slightest. How such a man had risen to any level of power within the Imperium had always come as a shock to most around him. But then again, Chancellor Alleri allowed Albrecht to pick and choose his associates as he saw fit, and that decision had yet to prove detrimental. Anders was one of the finest logisticians anywhere, capable of managing the SNC's assets with a fine eye for detail, not letting anything go to waste.
"Fyra won't hold."
Stella said flatly, matching Anders calm monotone with her own, masking the trepidation she felt saying those words. Fully 25 percent of the Imperial Army was trapped on the surface of that one planet, alongside over a billion civilians who hadn't been evacuated in time. Anders ignored her statement and responded with his own.
"Albrecht dealt with your R-53 problem. Just so you know."
The head of Intelligence already knew this. By some ungodly miracle, Albrecht had managed to lead his lone section straight to the enemy production facility and level it with coordinated naval bombardment and planted charges. It had been too late for many though, and the poison gas had been deployed at dozens of locations. Nonetheless, she nodded at Anders confirmation.
"Your heart rate has gone up since you came in here, got a meeting with Skippy after this?"
The young man said sarcastically, referring to Chancellor Scipio Alleri. He wouldn't be fooled by her calm exterior for a second, his augmentics saw to that. The familiar, arrogant manner the SNC used when referring to him, as well as their peers, had often aggravated Stella to no end.
"I'll be giving him the rundown of the intelligence situation after this, yes. But that's irrelevant."
"Mhm. So what do you want me to do? Shouldn't you be discussing this with the Army or Navy? They're the ones in charge down there."
"They already know. There isn't much they can do. The Navy is too focused on organizing the relief effort. They're already assigning six battlegroups to the operation. Shatterpoint, Broadside, and Leander are already above Bryga. It'll take at least another month to marshal up Sovereign and Eternal. And Arrogance is still waiting on the Fist to be repaired and refitted after Dan Bay."
Each of the Navies battle-groups was named after the leading capital ships name, or at least part of the name in the case of the Imperium Eternal and Fist of Arrogance. However, these groups often operated independently, and in recent months, they had been striking indirectly at the shvir, avoiding the slaughterhouse of Fyra at all costs and instead destroying outlying outposts, forward bases and isolated alien fleets. Battle-group Rastavan was theoretically in charge of the Fyran sector, but the Glory of Rastavan now lay under repairs with months left before she'd be battle ready, and most of the battle-groups ships were damaged or destroyed. The last convoy had only gotten through at the cost of almost the entire escort group, the cruiser Tannenberg having gone down with nearly all hands. No further protection was available. Time was running short for Fyra.
"The shvir are sending new convoys. My people on Earth, Issa and the Navy's pickets have picked them up. If they make it through, Fyra will simply not be able to hold on the ground. All they have to do is get rid of the orbital defense guns, or most of them, and it's all over. There's a week at most. Then Fyra will be leveled from orbit."
"Then the fighting moves here, to Bryga."
"It can't be allowed to happen. We can't make the same effort again Anders, and you know that. We don't have the manpower, equipment, and with a loss at Fyra, confidence will be out."
"No, we can't. But it is up to the ground pounders and flyboys to win. We can only guide their hand, at most."
"If someone doesn't interdict those reinforcements, we are going to lose Fyra and this war. The relief force will be forced to race to their deaths. They'll never make it down there in time even if they try."
"They still have to get past Fyra Five, the garrisons are holding out over there from what I understand."
"They still have far too much open space left to make landfall."
"How long until the landing takes place?"
"Initial landings will be there within a day."
"Rest delivered and offloaded within the week?"
Stella nodded in confirmation.
"Do you know where they're marshalling the transports? This kind of operation needs to be well organized, and in the shvir's case, well organized means pure mass."
"Issa, but the fleet and orbital defenses protecting them are too strong for anything short of a full battlegroup, and as you know, we can't spare any of those."
Anders activated a small holo projector on his desk, swiftly scrolling through to an image of the planet Issa. It was an uninhabited gas giant, and entirely insignificant were it not for the massive orbital shipyards and space stations that hung above its surface, shielded by several large rings of stone and debris, as well as the planets seventeen moons. Almost instantly, a small smile began to crease across Gabriel's scarred features.
"They're fucked! You really think this is a problem?!"
He said, displaying far more enthusiasm and emotion than Stella had ever seen from the taciturn logistician.
"How?"
"Those damn ships need to clear the rings to make the jump, they have to abandon their defenses to leave. Contact the Navy, Moriarty should be within range already. Get every wolf-pack within a three system radius on it. If the navy boys do their job, it'll be a massacre. Ha, your people got the right intel, that's for sure."
Stella calmly nodded to her aide, Maurice, who had been standing silently at attention up until this point. Quietly, he slipped out of the room to make the arrangements.
"Of course, some might get through, and there's several ships that are already on the way."
The intelligence officer continued calmly, nonetheless feeling some relief at the news. Despite the generally poor relationship the SNC enjoyed with the other Imperial services, it always surprised her how much they knew, and how well they were informed on the movements of their compatriots. In comparison, the SNC's movement was an enigma.
"Where will they land?"
Anders inquired, his initial excitement rapidly returning back to the cold, phlegmatic attitude he normally displayed. Well, they didn't know everything.
"My sources project they'll make planetfall at Bjorgensfjord. It'll be an easy landing. The area is currently undefended except for a regiment of the 78th Storm, and they're recuperating from heavy losses."
Bjorgensfjord also housed the site of one of the largest intelligence storage facilities in the Imperium, as well as a class A forward post, spying on all Shviri activities in a wide arc of the front, but Stella did not feel the need to tell Anders that. He just had to provide enough manpower to help secure the facilities evacuation. Simple enough to assign the commandos to it once they arrived.
"How long until the landing takes place?"
"Initial landings will be there within a day."
"Rest delivered and offloaded within the week?"
Stella nodded in confirmation.
"Do you know where they're marshalling the transports? This kind of operation needs to be well organized, and in the shvir's case, well organized means pure mass."
"Issa, but the fleet and orbital defenses protecting them are too strong for anything short of a full battlegroup, and as you know, we can't spare any of those."
Anders activated a small holo projector on his desk, swiftly scrolling through to an image of the planet Issa. It was an uninhabited gas giant, and entirely insignificant were it not for the massive orbital shipyards and space stations that hung above its surface, shielded by several large rings of stone and debris, as well as the planets seventeen moons. Almost instantly, a small smile began to crease across Gabriel's scarred features.
"They're fucked! You really think this is a problem?!"
He said, displaying far more enthusiasm and emotion than Stella had ever seen from the taciturn logistician.
"How?"
"Those damn ships need to clear the rings to make the jump, they have to abandon their defenses to leave. Contact the Navy, Moriarty should be within range already. Get every wolf-pack within a three system radius on it. If the navy boys do their job, it'll be a massacre. Ha, your people got the right intel, that's for sure."
Stella calmly nodded to her aide, Maurice, who had been standing silently at attention up until this point. Quietly, he slipped out of the room to make the arrangements.
"Of course, some might get through, and there's several ships that are already on the way."
The intelligence officer continued calmly, nonetheless feeling some relief at the news. Despite the generally poor relationship the SNC enjoyed with the other Imperial services, it always surprised her how much they knew, and how well they were informed on the movements of their compatriots. In comparison, the SNC's movement was an enigma.
"Where will they land?"
Anders inquired, his initial excitement rapidly returning back to the cold, phlegmatic attitude he normally displayed. Well, they didn't know everything.
"My sources project they'll make planetfall at Bjorgensfjord. It'll be an easy landing. The area is currently undefended except for a regiment of the 78th Storm, and they're recuperating from heavy losses."
Bjorgensfjord also housed the site of one of the largest intelligence storage facilities in the Imperium, as well as a class A forward post, spying on all Shviri activities in a wide arc of the front, but Stella did not feel the need to tell Anders that. He just had to provide enough manpower to help secure the facilities evacuation. Simple enough to assign the commandos to it once they arrived.
"Perfectly flat above the fjord itself and good amount of space for LZ's, within assault range of thirteen orbitals. Don't see why that should be wrong. Something will have to be done."
The skin on his forehead furrowed above the expressionless implants as he thought about just that something, or perhaps looked at whatever he was being shown by the machinery wired to his body.
"The main force will have to come from the army, of course. But defending Bjorgensfjord is suicidal. The forces that will be redeployed there will not hold."
She eyed Anders slowly, waiting for a response, he made none, merely watching her calmly, waiting for her to continue.
"I have reports, that some of the units are becoming unmanageable. There's no mass desertion, yet. But the siege is taking its toll. Much of the soldiery is beginning to believe that the war is over, and that we left them to die."
Still nothing, Anders was as silent as stone.
"I do believe it would be beneficial, to stiffen their morale, if you were to deploy some of your own men there. Embed them with the higher ups perhaps. Make sure resolve doesn't weaken."
She knew Albrechts reaction to such a suggestion would have been violent and impulsive, Anders was nothing of the sort. It seemed as if he were made of stone, absolutely passive. But when he spoke, there was a slightly mocking tone in his voice.
"More a job for the MP's I think. We can't be threatening to shoot our own. Hell, the SNC has no authority over the Army. And Albrecht would never approve of it."
"It's what you do. You are a tool of fear. And in this case, if something doesn't stiffen the resistance on Fyra, if Bjorgensfjord does not hold to the last man, everything will be lost. Propaganda has failed, and now is the time for fear to take its place. As for the legality of it. They do not know you don't have the authority, the Army will be forced to accept it. The Chancellor will confirm the order."
"What do you know about morale?"
The question took her by surprise, especially from a man like Anders. He said it calmly, as with everything, his voice only slightly touched with a hint of genuine interest.
"Admittedly not much. But I do know how to motivate people. And in a situation such as this, the strongest motivation is needed. Even if the raiding groups pull it off, the reinforcements that will slip through will be too much. And you know that as well as me."
"Well, I won't say I'm an expert on such things, and I have no doubt Salazar would have agreed with you, were he still around. But Albrecht is still in charge of deployment."
"You are in charge. It was his explicit order when he left."
Stella said icily.
"That is beside the point. I will not confirm such orders. I will however, authorize a shift."
His fingers danced on the table on the table, the metal digits clattering against the wood in a steady staccato.
"We have seven platoons trapped planetside. Part of one is stuck on Fyra Five."
For an organization dedicated to small unit raiding, reconnaissance and assassination, such a loss was simply unacceptable.
"Hess' first platoon is nearby. I'll order them to move. We should still have the Drakkens planet side. A thousand kilometers should be smooth sailing. They'll stiffen your defense. No doubt save your little spy-house."
So he knew. She wondered if he was angered by her omission of its presence. If he was, he made no indication of the fact. He was also a thing of the shadows, and respected the Intelligence Service accordingly.
"I think they can make it in six hours once I contact the MIRS crew."
Mass Intelligence Relay Sites were the core of the Imperiums inter-planetary communications, and the shvir had failed to jam the one on Fyra Five. Thus, it managed to relay everything from Fyra out to the greater Imperium.
"Good. There'll be other landing sites, no doubt."
Stella said, as if to placate any fraying caused by her prior omission.
"And we'll respond in kind. You go deal with Skippy and just don't let whatever nightmares you have hidden down there in your post get picked up by the sheevees."
With a flourish, he began typing into the large keyboard on his desk, mechanical and human fingers dancing across the keyboard in a gentle clatter. As she turned away, she could hear him muttering under his breath with a dramatic flourish.
"And now- If you'll excuse me. I have to contact the MIRS."
She eyed Anders slowly, waiting for a response, he made none, merely watching her calmly, waiting for her to continue.
"I have reports, that some of the units are becoming unmanageable. There's no mass desertion, yet. But the siege is taking its toll. Much of the soldiery is beginning to believe that the war is over, and that we left them to die."
Still nothing, Anders was as silent as stone.
"I do believe it would be beneficial, to stiffen their morale, if you were to deploy some of your own men there. Embed them with the higher ups perhaps. Make sure resolve doesn't weaken."
She knew Albrechts reaction to such a suggestion would have been violent and impulsive, Anders was nothing of the sort. It seemed as if he were made of stone, absolutely passive. But when he spoke, there was a slightly mocking tone in his voice.
"More a job for the MP's I think. We can't be threatening to shoot our own. Hell, the SNC has no authority over the Army. And Albrecht would never approve of it."
"It's what you do. You are a tool of fear. And in this case, if something doesn't stiffen the resistance on Fyra, if Bjorgensfjord does not hold to the last man, everything will be lost. Propaganda has failed, and now is the time for fear to take its place. As for the legality of it. They do not know you don't have the authority, the Army will be forced to accept it. The Chancellor will confirm the order."
"What do you know about morale?"
The question took her by surprise, especially from a man like Anders. He said it calmly, as with everything, his voice only slightly touched with a hint of genuine interest.
"Admittedly not much. But I do know how to motivate people. And in a situation such as this, the strongest motivation is needed. Even if the raiding groups pull it off, the reinforcements that will slip through will be too much. And you know that as well as me."
"Well, I won't say I'm an expert on such things, and I have no doubt Salazar would have agreed with you, were he still around. But Albrecht is still in charge of deployment."
"You are in charge. It was his explicit order when he left."
Stella said icily.
"That is beside the point. I will not confirm such orders. I will however, authorize a shift."
His fingers danced on the table on the table, the metal digits clattering against the wood in a steady staccato.
"We have seven platoons trapped planetside. Part of one is stuck on Fyra Five."
For an organization dedicated to small unit raiding, reconnaissance and assassination, such a loss was simply unacceptable.
"Hess' first platoon is nearby. I'll order them to move. We should still have the Drakkens planet side. A thousand kilometers should be smooth sailing. They'll stiffen your defense. No doubt save your little spy-house."
So he knew. She wondered if he was angered by her omission of its presence. If he was, he made no indication of the fact. He was also a thing of the shadows, and respected the Intelligence Service accordingly.
"I think they can make it in six hours once I contact the MIRS crew."
Mass Intelligence Relay Sites were the core of the Imperiums inter-planetary communications, and the shvir had failed to jam the one on Fyra Five. Thus, it managed to relay everything from Fyra out to the greater Imperium.
"Good. There'll be other landing sites, no doubt."
Stella said, as if to placate any fraying caused by her prior omission.
"And we'll respond in kind. You go deal with Skippy and just don't let whatever nightmares you have hidden down there in your post get picked up by the sheevees."
With a flourish, he began typing into the large keyboard on his desk, mechanical and human fingers dancing across the keyboard in a gentle clatter. As she turned away, she could hear him muttering under his breath with a dramatic flourish.
"And now- If you'll excuse me. I have to contact the MIRS."
