Spooker
patreon
Grass Eaters | 6 | Last Mile
🕑 Added 2024-03-05 00:04:08 +0000 UTCUpon the discovery of scientific evidence suggesting a possible low-cost constant-acceleration Drive, nations on Earth invested heavily in an attempt to reach them. The Terra Corporation got there first, successfully creating the first successful Alcubierre Drive. This breakthrough enabled Terra Corporation to amass vast quantities of wealth through their monopoly on practical space travel…
As humanity explored and colonized the solar system using their rockets, Terra had to shoulder more responsibilities such as providing security and law enforcement, arbitrating disputes, and regulating interstellar commerce. Soon after, governments across the world attempted to nationalize or implement higher taxes on Terra’s operations. In response, the corporation moved its headquarters to the lunar surface and established the city of Atlas. After some growing pains, Terra was established as its own nation-state and quickly reformed itself into the Terran Republic. Within two decades, Earth saw many people leave for a better life in the new Republic. This caused most major nations of Earth to give up their autonomy and sovereignty one after another and join the Terran Republic, in exchange for a share of this rapidly growing wealth and pool of opportunities. Economic, diplomatic, and eventually military pressure finally completed this historic global unification a decade later.
The Terran Republic Senate was created to uphold the original principles upon which it was founded, with representatives from each of the former nation states of Earth and many of the Republic’s new colonies outside its orbits. Constructed in Atlas, the former tax haven and corporate headquarters of Terra became the capital city for humanity’s new and somewhat-united Republic…
The elected representatives of the Republic passed laws like the infamous Prime Directive, which prohibited any contact with outside species that were not aware of human existence. Sanctions for violating the law were immediate and severe. The official basis for this rule was rooted in the potential risks associated with meeting a more advanced intelligent species, like the ones humanity quickly detected upon the invention of the FTL drive and exploration of its nearby systems.
The actual purpose of the Prime Directive was a compromise over the same age-old civilizational argument over federalism, about how much power the Republic central government held over the districts; the agreement was to kick this can that was the existence of far-away aliens down the road, until the next elections at least. However, as would become common in Republic politics, there was nothing more permanent than a temporary solution. The Prime Directive continued to be in effect even long after all its original proponents had retired.
Through covert long-range surveillance, the Republic was able to deduce the friendly disposition of its three closest neighbors: the Granti, Schpriss, and Malgeir alien species, as well as others that were further away. As a result of this knowledge, the Republic Navy built up confidence in its operations and began to conduct more stealthy recon missions without revealing its own existence.
After the Znosians and their war of extermination against the Granti began, the Prime Directive acted as a significant source of contention, leading to major debates within the Republic:
Half of the Republic favored humanitarian intervention. Finally, this was a cause which could give that word a new meaning!
The other half favored non-interventionism. For them, the fate of the Granti justified the Prime Directive: this new Znosian threat was precisely what it was put in place to protect from!
The original discussion over federalism fell by the wayside as the war raged outside the Republic and as the point became a contention of existential security and stark morality…
From the initial drafts of the Republic, a plethora of checks and balances were incorporated into the Senate to create an effective system of institutional veto points. For decades, endeavors to modify or reform this so-called Prime Directive went nowhere…
History of the Terran Republic, Chapter 1 Summary
---
Malgeirgam, Malgeiru
For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of life, above and beyond the call of duty, Fleet Commander Grionc led the Sixth Fleet against overwhelming Znosian naval forces to achieve ultimate victory in the space battle to liberate Datsot… Ships under her command weathered attacks from countless volleys of missiles fired by an elite Znosian fleet with dozens of ships…
Under the direction of Fleet Commander Grionc, her flagship fought on and continued the charge despite multiple hits to its hull and critical systems…
Emboldened by her inspirational display of defiance, the brave Malgeir spacers of the Sixth Fleet surged fearlessly towards the enemy onslaught, crushing the enemy’s resolve and their ships. Fleet Commander Grionc’s extraordinary leadership and devotion to duty are in keeping with the highest traditions of military service and reflect great credit on her, her fleet, and the Malgeir Navy!
Inside, Grionc felt her stomach churn, grateful that her breakfast had been light. Her posture remained erect, her expression stoic, as she endured the extensive award ceremony, managing to keep the roiling contents of her stomach in check.
To her, this was an appalling charade, grotesquely parading the sacrifices of the spacers under her command as victory… sacrifices that were necessary because of her own shortcomings and mistakes.
She had painstakingly written up commendations for every Malgeir spacer she could; their actual heroism was what ensured her survival and that of the fleet, not her. No squadron was neglected, and Granti Squadron 4 received special mentions. Their Council-in-exile had also made sure to get the details so they could present their own medals to her and her spacers too.
While the Defense Ministry accepted most of her recommendations, “necessary adjustments” had to be made to the citations. Public ceremonies, after all, must portray a particular narrative, and they could ill afford to sow seeds of doubt amongst the civilian population, who were already sniffing the tendrils of suspicion that the war might not be unfolding as splendidly as they were led to believe.
She hoped that at least they could be done with these formalities quickly. The Znosians were not going to take this Datsot counteroffensive lying down, and when that time came, she wanted her fleet — battle-worn yet unbroken — ready to staunchly defend it.
To her own death if necessary.
She deserved nothing less. And nothing more.
For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at the risk of life, above and beyond the call of duty, posthumously, Granti Captain Clebret led Granti Special Squadron 4 in a glorious charge against overwhelming enemy numbers…
---
Atlas, Luna
Chuck Harris slid into the chair at the witness table, tossing Amelia a grin that barely hid his tension. “Admiral, how’s the wind in your sails today?” he half-whispered, eyes flickering across the courtroom.
Amelia responded with a weary smile and held up four fingers. “The wind in my— Four hearings today, Chuck. Four. How’s that for a good time?”
His eyebrows knitted sympathetically. “How’d they go?”
“Well, I haven’t been placed on administrative leave with no pay, yet, so I take that as a major win.”
“What were the other three hearings?” Harris asked.
She sighed, recounting, “First one was the Intelligence Committee. Just a regular classified debriefing of our recent vacation. Then I got summoned to the Navy Oversight Committee. That one was filled with the usual peaceniks trying to dissect every single one of my actions since I was commissioned. And the last one, which just ended half an hour ago: the lovely Armed Services Committee. Room full of hawks patting themselves on the back for voting for more Navy funding in light of recent events. That’s when they weren’t busy helpfully trying to suggest ways we can legally bypass the Prime Directive the next time we go out there.”
“If you end up in jail, you could always toss them under the bus, saying they put the idea in your head…”
“Very funny, Chuck. If they send me to Neu-Nuremberg, I’m going to tell them it was all your genius plan. They’ll believe little old me when—”
Their playful banter was cut short when an additional, familiar figure joined them in the last empty chair at the table, his expression one of contained amusement.
“Captain Guerrero, you look like you’re ready to be hanged or given a medal,” Amelia teased.
Gregor Guerrero was a 39-year-old captain from District 42. Quiet and competent, his credentials were unimpeachable. Unfortunately, he was also the captain of the TRNS Nile, the subject of this hearing. “I just got done with another one. From the Navy Disciplinary Board.”
Amelia’s face turned serious. “The Jaggies? What did they say?”
“No charges yet. They just officially informed me I’m being investigated. I get the feeling the Navy is waiting for the Senate to decide whether we’re heroes or traitors to the Republic. They’re hedging their bets. If we’re heroes, they don’t want to throw me in jail. If we’re traitors, they can’t give me a medal. Get it?” He winked with the confidence of a man whose mother is a prominent local politician back in his district, which, of course, she was.
“Where would we be without your political expertise, oh wise sage, oh whisperer of Republic Senate poli—”
She was interrupted by a loud commotion from the side door as the lawmakers filed into the room and up to the tables on the dais. The Senate was made up of three hundred Senators, one for each district in the Terran Republic, and this hall did not have enough seats for all the Senators who wanted to take part. And this was a big hall.
There was a mad scramble as aides tried to find seats for the remaining lawmakers. A few unlucky ones were relegated to the public benches.
The door behind them opened and the public noisily filed in as well. There were many, many more civilians than they both expected, including every news service in Sol.
Chuck leaned over and nodded towards the head of the Senator table and whispered, “That’s Senator Blake Wald. District 37. Big on peace, not so much on funding fancy new spaceships. I heard he singlehandedly cut two missile destroyer squadrons from the budget in ‘08—”
“Yeah, I recognize him. He was in my debrief this morning. He might be a dove, but he was not there for soundbites or to berate me. He seemed… genuine. No games. Everyone was oddly… unified.”
Senator Wald was a disciplined-looking man with white hair, kind brown eyes, and a thick mustache from District 37. He sported no obvious scars or tattoos to mark it, but common knowledge in Atlas was that he became an anti-war pacifist after three brutal tours in the Saturn Red Zone to deal with a terrorist and piracy flare-up. Back in the day… when he was not in his 80s, of course. Rules of engagement in his era were a lot looser too…
The Senator read from the motion before him, “This is the public hearing for the Oettro Incident. Let the record show that the Senate Intelligence Committee has unanimously voted to declassify the details surrounding the Oettro Incident in the interest of transparency and public debate. Let us begin. Witnesses, state your name, rank, and current station.”
“Amelia Waters, Vice Admiral, Navy, commanding officer of Task Force Frontier Security.”
“Chuck Harris, Commander, Navy, commanding officer of the Mississippi.”
“Gregor Guerrero, Captain, Navy, commanding officer of the Nile.”
“Ah. The three of you are here,” Wald said, peering down at them through the top of his glasses to directly address them for the first time. “And Commander Agarwal?”
Amelia answered, “She is not present, Senator. The circumstances of the commanding officer of the Amazon and her ship… we can’t discuss it here. Happy to discuss that in a classified setting—”
“That will be quite alright,” he dismissed. “I trust the three of you will tell the truth, and have all sworn the oath?”
Affirmation rippled through the witnesses. “We have, Senator.”
“Then, let us begin. Admiral Waters, ladies first. Why don’t you start us off? Describe the events of the Oettro Incident in detail, please. And don’t leave anything out from your briefing this morning.”
“Yes, Senator.” Amelia took a breath, gathered her notes from her logbook, and began to read her prepared statement:
Two years and five months ago, the Navy received information about a planned Znosian raid on a Malgeir mining outpost in a sparsely populated star system called Oettro. Naval Intelligence determined that their ultimate objective was not the mines, but rather the supply shipment that went to it every other month.
To understand the context behind a raid like this, you must first understand how and why the Malgeir operate the way they do. They are fundamentally a peaceful species forced into war. From what we know, before this current war with the Znosians, their previous serious armed conflict was over a thousand years ago. For all that time: because their military was deemed superfluous, service was reserved mostly for criminals and miscreants who had no other place in society. Their equipment became obsolete and their tactics worthless despite all the technological advances of their civilian industries made during that time. They do not understand the enemy; they do not even understand their own strengths and weaknesses. More practically, when it comes to predicting the nature, location, and timing of military engagements in this war, their record has been perfect: they have never once gotten it right.
The Malgeir have been forced to change radically due to this war. However, because of their tendency to hide failures, they repeat many of their mistakes. Over. And over. And over again. One of the mistakes relevant to this hearing is that they make very little differentiation between a civilian and a military logistics supply chain. The Malgeir like to link all their supply nodes in a space sector together in a singular supply route.
An abstract diagram showed up on the screen, a circle of nodes showing a simplified Malgeir logistics graph.
To put it simply, they load up all the supplies that sector needs for the month on a few massive transport ships. Then, they fly those ships around to each system and unload what they need. And repeat.
This makes sense for a civilian supply chain. It is efficient, predictable, foolproof, and it is a recipe for complete and utter disaster near the front lines of a war zone.
In the Terran Navy, we plan for attrition on what we call the tactical last mile. We use smaller shipments on dangerous routes. We use heavy escorts. We have random schedules and patrols. We employ computers and intelligence models to calculate risk and mitigate it. The Malgeir do none of these things, and after ten years of war, they have somehow still neglected to learn these important logistical lessons despite numerous setbacks, failed offensives, and a severely crippled transport industry.
Against the Malgeir, one successful raid on their shipping route can take out enough supply ships and supplies to be worth the gross domestic product of several outposts combined, and the Znosians have become intimately familiar with just how effortless and profitable such raids were.
Finishing up her background brief, Amelia pointed to the large presentation screen, now showing a starmap identifying its “border” systems with the Malgeir Federation.
The Terran Republic Navy is charged with the task of patrolling the dynamic nature of our frontier and identifying potential future threats. We did not intend to intervene in this raid at Oettro, but it was important for Naval Intelligence to determine how badly Malgeir logistics would get mauled when this Znosian raid inevitably succeeds. So, it sent Task Force Frontier Security and its three next-generation low observability recon ships to monitor Oettro: the Amazon, Nile, and Mississippi. I commanded the Task Force from the Mississippi.
Because we were already in the area to observe another battle, we managed to arrive at the destination six days before the Znosian raiders did. For this raid, the Znosians sent four Forager-class missile destroyers. The Malgeir would categorize them as Delta-class, but we believe their size-based classification system to be impractical for identifying ship roles, another symptom of their tactical inadequacy.
She played a short video on the big screen, a quick and violent action showing the false-color thermal sensor recording of an exploding asteroid base…
The four Znosian missile destroyers took out the Malgeir mining outpost situated at the edge of the system almost instantly upon entering the system, preventing it from sending out a warning to its supply fleet.
Then, we sat and waited with them. Our three ships remained in stealth and strict emissions control for two weeks, taking turns maneuvering behind various asteroids to occlude our ships while we radiated our heat sinks away from the Znosian sensors every forty-eight hours, which is standard operating protocol for our ships.
Then, as the video with the sensor data overlayed began to play, she began to recount the events, “The scheduled delivery time came and went. This was not unusual. Punctuality is not a highly valued trait in the Malgeir Navy or their auxiliary support flotillas. As it turned out, the supply fleet was further delayed by about eighty hours…”
