A Charter for the Commonwealth

by Richard F. Weyand

  “When will those be ready?”

  “Another couple weeks. Then we need six months or so to turn around a final production design. After that, you can just turn the crank on production. They’re pretty simple,” Leigh said.

  Prescott and his whole crew were on Stardust for the test shots. A shuttle had dropped half a dozen three-foot-diameter buoys out in the Voda Ocean well away from land or shipping lanes, and maintained a radar watch for boats wandering into the area. They would be dropping dummy munitions – no nuclear demolition aboard, just an equivalent weight.

  Two more spare consoles on the Stardust’s bridge were devoted to the planetary bombardment weapons, as opposed to the anti-ship weapons. Dustin Martin was at the secondary panel, while the primary panel was being manned by James Pramann, one of Stardust’s crew and another Earth Space Navy vet.

  “All right, everybody. We can’t forget we’re testing on a populated planet. Let’s make sure we at least hit the ocean,” Captain Heller told the bridge crew.

  There were chuckles all around, then the navigator, Matt Asnip, said, “We’re approaching the target cone, sir.”

  “Whenever you’re ready, Mr. Pramann.”

  “Bring ship’s bows to zero minus one hundred thirty-five on orbit vector,” Pramann said.

  Since the ship was spinning to maintain internal gravity, Asnip applied thrust at ninety degrees to the desired rotation, and the ship rotated it’s bows down to a forty-five degree angle to a radius from the planet, pointing back along its orbit and down.

  “Orientation at zero minus one-hundred thirty-five on orbit vector,” Asnip said. “Entering target cone. Center of target cone in five minutes.”

  Pramann and Martin were huddled over Pramann’s console checking everything one last time as the minutes ticked by.

  “Center of target cone,” Asnip said.

  Pramann pushed the Launch icon. At the front of the ship, more than a thousand feet away, a two-foot diameter cover blew off one corner of a container in the racks between two of the big beam cutters. Compressed air accelerated the dummy munition down a tube the length of the container and out into space. It fell rapidly behind Stardust.

  There was a subtle bump to the ship you could just feel on the bridge.

  “Munition away,” Pramann said.

  In a relative sense, the dummy munition dropped back and down from Stardust, but it was still headed in Stardust’s orbital direction, but at a much slower velocity. It angled down toward Jablonka.

  As it fell, it assumed a high-drag configuration, unfolding its directional vanes straight out to the side, with their surfaces perpendicular to its velocity. When it hit the upper reaches of the atmosphere, it started to heat up, still accelerating as gravity pulled at it harder than its drag in such thin air could slow it. It deployed a small drogue chute on a long line behind it. As the atmosphere thickened, its high-drag configuration and the drogue chute together halted its acceleration and started to slow it down. The dummy munition released the drogue chute and deployed a slightly larger chute. Its deceleration increased.

  The dummy munition was tracking its location relative to the coordinates of its intended target. It began to manipulate its vanes to alter its direction slightly, aiming for the target. It then released the second chute and came barreling down out of the sky, adjusting its impact with finicky precision.

  “Holy shit, Stardust. That was awesome. We didn’t even see it coming. Just BAM and the buoy is gone. Damn,” the voice of shuttle pilot Nathan Davis came over the radio.

  “Stardust confirms. Positive impact on target. Roger,” Stardust’s radio operator, James Oconnell radioed back.

  “Boy, I’ll say, Stardust. We have little bits and pieces of buoy around where it used to be, but none of them is more ’n a couple inches across. It’s like it just exploded. And the water spout went a hunnert feet in the air,” Davis came back.

  “Good shooting, Mr. Pramann. Now you have ninety minutes to set up to see if you can do it again. Two at a time, this time around,” Captain Heller said.

  “Yes, sir. We’re on it.”

  The two-at-a-time test the next orbit, and the three-at-a-time test the orbit after that, were as successful as the first shot, to the delight of shuttle pilot Davis, who got even more expressive as the tests went on. Prescott and his crew took a shuttle back down to Jezgra even as divers were retrieving the dummy munitions from the shallow water of the test site for analysis.

  Learning From The Past

  It had been several months since their last meeting. It was, as always, at the home of Ansen and Kusunoki.

  “So, Professor, are you ready to continue the discussion with regard to founding documents?” Sigurdsen asked.

  “Yes, Admiral,” Ansen said. “We have been corresponding among the Westlake Prize winners, and the essentials of a founding document have been decided.”

  “Excellent. Then let me ask you for a statement of basic principles, as we have done before.”

  “The primary role of the central government is providing military defense for its member planets, with the secondary roles of conducting foreign policy, providing a common currency, and ensuring civil rights. That’s basically it.”

  “A short list, then. And your second principle?” Sigurdsen asked.

  “That the document explicitly spell out the only powers of the central government, and further explicitly spell out a long list of the powers that the central government does not have.”

  “Belt and suspenders. Makes sense. Do you have a third?”

  “Yes,” Ansen said. “That amendment of the document should be the next thing to impossible. Historically, they seldom go well.”

  “A good set of principles, I think, Professor. But you called this discussion, so you must have questions for me.”

  “Indeed, Admiral. They all have to do with the management of the military. What should such a basic document include? What does your study of military history indicate to you would be most appropriate in a founding document?”

  “There are a few things that are known to have worked in the past, and a few that have failed miserably. Successes first, or failures?” Sigurdsen asked.

  “Failures, I think.”

  “Very well. The first has to do with the makeup of the service, in how its members are selected. Three things there that have failed miserably in the past are conscription, mercenaries, and foreign fighters. All should be banned in your basic document.”

  “Well, conscription we already had banned, in a human right to be exempt from involuntary servitude, in which we explicitly included conscription. If the nation is to be defended, its citizens must rise to do it voluntarily. A failure there means the fight is not seen as necessary, or the military is under-compensated, or both,” Ansen said.

  “Exactly correct.”

  “With mercenaries and foreign fighters, you are thinking about the Roman Empire, I think?”

  “Among others,” Sigurdsen said. “Why would you want an armed military force of strangers within your country? Ultimately, your government only operates with their dispensation. Or not. And it is unclear whether they actually will defend your country when push comes to shove. They certainly have no patriotic reasons to do so.”

  “Fair enough. Another failure?”

  “Placing control of specific military expenditures under the control of the legislature. Not just how much is spent – that’s the proper role of the legislature – but how much is spent on specific programs.”

  “Because the legislature doesn’t have the knowledge or experience to make those decisions?” Ansen asked.

  “Worse. They have institutional biases on such decisions. They literally cannot make them correctly.”

  “Examples?”

  “Spending more than needed on fancy new systems, and less than needed on the maintenance of critical existing systems. Spending money on systems rather than manpower. Under-financing payroll, medical expenses, and retirements. Sp
ending money on the basis of where it is spent – in which politician’s territory – rather than on what it is spent for. Making basing decisions on the basis of which politician’s territory it favors. The list goes on and on,” Sigurdsen said.

  “So military spending decisions –”

  “Should be made by the military and the executive. Not the legislature, other than the overall level of military spending.”

  “Interesting. That makes for a powerful executive,” Ansen said.

  “Who is subject to a no-confidence vote by the legislature.”

  “Understood. Other failures? Or are we on to successes?”

  “Successes, I think. Officers of flag rank should be approved by the legislature,” Sigurdsen said.

  “Which is another control on the executive.”

  “Correct. It also gives the military an institutional continuity across administrations.”

  “So flag-rank positions don’t become patronage jobs,” Ansen said.

  “That’s right. Another success is having the military swear oath to the founding document rather than to the government or to the administration.”

  “Yes. There were some interesting failures there, with oaths being sworn to the leadership.”

  “Fascist Germany and Italy stand out, as well as Imperial Rome, but there are many examples. If the leadership goes off the rails, departs from the founding document, the military should be oath-sworn to disobey them,” Sigurdsen said.

  “Any others?”

  “One more. Military operations and military intelligence shouldn’t be in the same chain of command.”

  “That one’s fairly obvious, I should think,” Ansen said. “Otherwise the intelligence unit simply argues operations’ position.”

  “And covers operations on its failures. And yet, this is a very common organizational mistake. There are inefficiencies in having them be separate, to be sure, but to have really colossal failures, they need to be under unified command.”

  “And civilian leadership benefits from a diversity of opinion.”

  “Talking about civilian leadership,” Sigurdsen said, “there should also be a ban on currently serving military personnel holding civilian positions in the government.”

  “That we already had, I think.”

  “Excellent. Well, that pretty much covers it for me, Professor. Did you have other questions for discussion?”

  “Not at the present time, Admiral. But, as always, a most enjoyable discussion. Most enjoyable, indeed.”

  Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing

  About half of Red Team had been sucked into the ship’s crew for Stardust. The crew chiefs were doing their best with half of their crews being green spacers.

  “Now what do they want? We’re having a hard time keeping up as it is, and the ore containers are piling up without enough tonnage to get them to Earth,” Theresa Lucas said.

  “Well, they want us to fix that,” crew boss Lloyd Behm said. “They need to have ships showing up in Earth orbit, unloading fernico, we need to get some o’ this stuff that’s stackin’ up outta here, and Stardust’s crew needs some experience spacin’ around. So they want us to disguise the ships.”

  “Disguise Stardust? As what?” Eben Waters asked.

  “As Stardust. The freighter. Disguise her weapons. So we can let her run her normal freight runs.”

  “Those beam cutters are pretty big, boss,” Mark Walker said.

  “Yeah, but other than the beam emitters, they’re just a big steel box. Can we cover over the beam emitter end with some thin steel plate, and paint some markings on ’em like they’re oversize water containers or something? You know, so-and-so many thousand gallons? ’Cause they might be big, but compared to the ship, they’re not.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Robert Dean said. “All twelve together are forty-eight containers’ worth of volume, and on a ship that’ll take a couple thousand containers, that’s not a lot. Couple percent. We should be able to make it work.”

  “We could put explosive bolts on them, to allow the covers to be blown off if they need the emitters,” Lucas said.

  “That won’t work on the front ones. If the ship is under acceleration, those covers will fall back along the length of the ship, ripping up stuff as they go. The back ones would work, though. Those are more important, if you’re making a run for it,” Dean said.

  “Yeah, but if the ship’s not acceleratin’, blowin’ the front ones off is still easier than goin’ out there with a wrench or a torch or somethin’. Especially if ya spin the ship first. They’ll drift out, then it’s OK to go,” Walker said.

  “Fair enough,” Dean said.

  “OK, that sounds good,” Behm said. “And document everything for the other teams. Stardust’s our baby, along with Starlight and Starhome, but the other teams have their own ships to modify. We need to get these babies shipping, and their crews need the spacing time.”

  When it was all said and done, all the teams had major management changes. Once the disguises were done, Red Team Crew Boss Lloyd Behm moved aboard Stardust under Captain Marc Heller as the senior non-com, Robert Dean moved aboard Starlight under Captain Pamela Wright as the senior non-com, and Theresa Lucas moved aboard Starhome under Captain Bokerah Brumley as the senior non-com. Mark Walker would be Red Team Crew Boss of the mining operations on Misty going forward, and Eben Waters would be his assistant, while all the assistant crew chiefs moved up.

  Starhome’s secret name was CSS Victory, while Starlight’s was CSS Vengeance.

  The secure video conference had twenty-six attendees: Jarl Sigurdsen, the Orlov Group’s VP of Mining Operations, his subordinate, Rick Ewald, the Director of Shipping Operations, and the captains and first officers of all twelve of the converted freighters.

  “Good morning, gentlemen, ladies. Thank you for hooking in to this conference,” Sigurdsen said. “We are going to begin using your ships for freight operations to and from Earth. We need the tonnage, and your crews need the practice.

  “This will necessarily require some caution on your part to maintain the secrecy of your ships’ modifications. We have disguised some of their capability as extra reaction mass storage and extra supplies. You will also have a much larger than normal crew complement, which we are attributing to training missions for the new crew members required for so many ships.

  “We do want you to maintain the secrecy of your modifications. However, if you are fired on, you may fight your ships as required to escape. Our preference is you blow the covers and use the aft beam weapons, because that will leave behind little evidence of what actually happened for Earth to make heads or tails of. Their ship was simply lost. It happens. But we need you to make it back here so you can tell us Earth has turned belligerent.

  “We also need to emplace a more strict organizational structure aboard ship. We will be using naval ratings and organization charts we have devised from both the Earth Space Navy and from prior Earth sea-faring navies. We have sent you all materials on these ratings and organizational structures for your use in implementing them aboard your ships.

  “Finally, we need to train these crews so you can be effective. We also sent you materials on training scenarios you can use while under way, as well as some you have to do here, like gunnery practice. You have to do those last carefully, out of sight of the Earth’s commerce enforcement ships in the system, so coordinate that with us.”

  Stardust Captain Marc Heller and his XO, Bryan Jones, met with Lloyd Behm, the senior crew boss on Stardust.

  “Your rank, Mr. Behm, is Senior Chief Petty Officer, or simply Senior Chief. We are giving you seniority stripes for your years of service in the Orlov Group, which make you senior of all non-commissioned crew aboard. The senior non-com. We need you to sort out what you have for crew and make recommendations of ratings for all non-commissioned crew aboard.”

  Behm was looking over the table of ratings.

  “I understand, sir,” Behm said. “Seaman Recruit, Seaman 2nd, Seam
an 1st, Petty Officer 3rd, Petty Officer 2nd, Petty Officer 1st, Chief Petty Officer, and Senior Chief Petty Officer. Makes sense to me, sir.”

  “Good. I want you, as the senior non-com, to have a weekly meeting with the First Officer here, to discuss anything that needs discussing. Problem children, whether officers or enlisted, status of the ship, any issues that come up. We want to keep good communications between the two sides of the house.”

  Jones and Behm nodded to each other. They had both been with the Orlov Group and known each other for years, mostly from ferry rides from Jezgra to Misty and back early in Jones’ career.

  “Not a problem, sir,” Behm said.

  “There’s something else I want you to do, Senior Chief,” Heller said. “I’ve been reading up a lot on naval organization, particularly ship organization, and there’s a tradition I really like. It’s really important to have all the chiefs and senior chiefs on board ship be in cahoots with each other to keep things running smoothly. I don’t want the ship’s organization fracturing up into departments that are competitive with each other instead of cooperative. Some seafaring navies had a Chief’s Mess, where all the chiefs and senior chiefs ate and bunked together, rather than with their departments. I want you to look into that and implement it aboard Stardust. I’ve sent you a couple articles on that.”

  “I saw those, sir. The Goat Locker.”

  “Yes, that’s what they called it. Unofficially.”

  “No problem, sir.”

  “Great. Now that we have all that out of the way, we need to talk about training exercises. On our way to Earth, we need to start shaking out the crew. General quarters drills, maneuvering drills, that sort of thing. Commander Jones has some ideas on that. Go ahead, Bryan.”

  Marc Heller had left the Independence name plate in his house in Jezgra. No sense providing proof positive of anything untoward if they were searched. It would take a pretty thorough search to turn up anything on Stardust. With the weapons consoles powered down, they were just the spare consoles she shipped with, and the beam cutters were pretty cleverly concealed, all in all.