by Kali Altsoba
He knows Maçon will do the job with a meticulous eye and that LeClerc will revel in kicking ass and firing all incompetents in his way. ‘There’s more than one way to fight a war, and more than one front to fight it on. We all owe it to those dying at the sharp end to do it right, here on the home front and in the war industries Anything less is immoral, and unforgivable.’
Magda is different from his two most trusted military subordinates. Not more important in the end, just important in a different way. ‘Leadership and courage still form the highest moral factors in war, and this woman has both in spades. We must move her up the ranks, fast.’
How does he know? Because the report from the shipyard says that when the Yardmaster praised Magda for escorting a second multi-bohr, evacuation convoy to safety, first Alpha then the Wildfire fallback from Minotaur, her curt response was: “Wars are not won by evacuations.”
It doesn’t matter to Briand that Magda is Krevan. He tells a meeting of the War Cabinet in no uncertain terms that he’s offering her a Joint Fleet command based at Orestes. He declares that he expects the PM, the government, and the Lok Sabha to confirm her without objection.
Several ministers look like they’re about to object. He preempts them. “Gods preserve us from the jealousies of admirals, politicians and small children! I don’t care what godsdamn color her uniform is. This is a true flag officer who’ll fight! I intend to give her the ships and authority to do so, not just to defend already broken frontiers but in time to carry this war to our enemies!”
It’s wartime, and Briand is the most powerful minister in the government. Second in authority only to the prime minister. A close second, at that, given the shift in political winds the war brings. A gale is blowing in his direction at last, and everyone in the War Cabinet knows it. There’s no objection to a forceful declaration from a man no one in government wants to cross. Not when he’s been proven right about grave events when they were all so wrong. So he doesn’t wait for their answer. He simply turns to the War Cabinet secretary-of-record and says: “Next!”
“Next item on the agenda is the convoy situation at Amasia, minister.”
“Sir, if I may?” It’s the Assistant Minister for Naval Affairs, an up-and-comer with a strong, confident chin and a collection of rolled-up briefing scrolls heaped in front of him. They look like a luncheon platter of crisp, tan-colored burritos. Admiral Maçon lets his top aide speak.
“We have multiple confirmed reports of a massive enemy ground force build-up on the Thalassa coast of Lemuria. They’re getting ready for a ‘big show’ down there, a new offensive, probably across the desert this time. General Lian Sòng asks for whatever help we can spare.”
“That’s another woman who knows how to fight!” Briand declares. “Prime Minister, let’s see what we can do for General Sòng, shall we?” Without waiting for a response, he continues as if he’s in charge of the War Cabinet and government. He’s certainly running it, as Robert Hoare sinks deeper into moral paralysis with each new dispatch of bad news from the war fronts.
“What about Krevan divisions forming at Harsa and the other four Allied Base moons? Are any ready yet?” The five guest moons are not called “sanctuaries” by the War Cabinet or in Union news releases anymore. Briand woke up one morning, heard the old term on the GovNeb and immediately called MoD to decree that it was too passive. They’re all “Allied Bases” now.
“Let me check, minister.”
It’s Robert Hoare’s man, his Principal Private Secretary. He’s a competent if unsurprising bureaucrat with a too-narrow head for his large ears, and a boney slash in place of a nose. He’s not a bad sort, but he sees his cardinal duty as protecting his prime minister above all else.
“Harsa says more KRA divisions completed training and are ready to deploy. Seventeen this week, it says here. Well, I say, that sounds rushed to me! They can’t be ready to fight yet.”
“Neither are we, godsdamn it! But the war’s here now. We have to fight with what we have, not with what we hoped to have or hope we may have one day.”
“Yes, but to send such hastily raised and…”
“It’s done. We’ll send five of the new KRA divisions to Amasia. We need the rest in other fights. Get them onto the convoys and get them moving.”
General LeClerc points out. “KRA salts veterans in among the volunteers. Smart way to leverage battle experience and get the new divisions up to speed. They’ve got a lot more vets who’ve seen combat than we do, or I’d suggest following their example with out own corps. We still need our most experienced units intact and in the frontlines, however.”
“Well, we’re learning fast, too, aren’t we? Hard, but fast. Let’s keep this in mind for the future, as we raise more divisions ourselves. It’s a smart idea. Gaspard François, do we have any of our troops to spare for General Sòng?”
“We can send 15 divisions, just arrived from the far west homeworlds. But they’re totally green. We also have four veteran divisions of Threes and Helvetics, recovering from hard fights at the Caliban moons. That’s in one of the central Helvetic systems. They lost, and are beat up and undersized from taking heavy casualties. But they want to stay in the fight. We need them.”
“Good, What else? You look like you have an idea, general.”
“I spoke to both ambassadors. The governments-in-exile agreed to break up these four veteran divisions. They’ll let us seed Three and Helvetic veteran battalions into each virgin ACU division arriving from the west. If the PM agrees, we could call them ‘Alliance divisions.’ OK?”
“Prime minister, yes?” Robert Hoare nods. “Excellent! Let’s get them integrated starting now, Gaspard François. We need them on Amasia as of yesterday, so get them moving.”
“The orders are going out now. I had them prepared, pending the PM’s approval.”
“Prime minister, I think we should leave this whole matter of continuing support to our Amasian operation to General LeClerc. Yes?” Another nod from the prime minister.
“General, give our friend Lian Sòng the PM’s best wishes and best troops, and lots of mobile guns. Whatever it takes. We must hold Amasia. We must! It’s the key to this war. Prime Minister, with your permission I’ll proceed down the agenda? Yes? Thank you. Next!”
The PM doesn’t say a word. He’s mute in his purring chair. A hollowed-out man. A man of a past, more peaceful Age. Not a man for juggling fire. Not a leader called for by harder times.
***
Objections and jealousies notwithstanding, Magda is given command over all Alliance ships based at Orestes. It didn’t hurt her cause that the War Government was able to give Émile Fontaine’s sonar prototype and blueprints to Briand, who used them to persuade the NCU High Command to bend to his will on the Aklyan promotion. And to give her more ships. Lots more.
Task Force Wildfire gets a name change, to ‘White Sails.’ It was Briand’s idea. At first it was just a GovNeb and memex moniker. Then some too clever coms officer code-designated the return leg of Wildfire’s venture to Minotaur the “Black Sails.” Briand angrily vetoed the term when he heard. He also knew the old story, of how upon returning from King Minos’ island Theseus forgot to switch his sails from black to white, so that all the waiting watchers overcome with grief and despair hurled themselves into the sea.
“We’ll have none of that. Our fleets sail with white sails, a merger of Alliance hopes and under a canvas of all colors. Send that young man to see the Blue Hammer. He needs a talking to.” He means Admiral Gaétan Maçon in MoD, who has a reputation for hitting recalcitrant nails.
Briand suggested making the name formal, that combined-ops KRN and NCU ships sport a sailing ship with billowing canvas on the stern, as the unit escutcheon. It’s a symbol of hope for the success of the new war-fleet and Alliance. Magda approves, and it’s quickly done at Orestes.
White Sails is the first fleet designated ‘Alliance.’ Admiral Aklyan moves her flag to the first, and at the time the only, KRN battleship at O
restes. Goliath is better known as ‘Golly’ to her crew. She’s an older battleship, last of three in the prewar Genève Squadron. She fought hard at the outer moons, where she was severely damaged, forced to bohr-away less than a day into the invasion. With no Krevan repair dock free that could handle her, she hid in the oort cloud at Acis until that system fell, too. Now she comes at last to Orestes to rejoin with seven little Alpha ships that once formed part of her escort screen. She’s already ship-shape and ready for action.
Golly was put to repairs at one of the big space docks at Argos as soon as she arrived. Now she comes to Orestes flying full parade-bunting and with docking-lasers flashing and gun lasers at 0.01% power, bathed in color as if on a peacetime port-of-call or a homecoming cruise. Arriving with Golly after also fleeing from Genève to Acis, and onward, are a dozen mixed-class survivors of the original screen, and five heavy cruisers: Picardy, Tromp, Uxbridge, York, and Normandie. There’s much rejoicing to see these lost sisters, missing-in-action since the ‘Battle of Genève System,’ the short fight the Kaigun sneeringly designated ‘Genève Obliteration.’
Two more KRN battleships arrive late, from Aral: Endurance and Endeavor. A fourth, Quark, arrives with a complement of four heavy cruisers and a dozen destroyers a week later, all that’s left of shattered Amphitrite Squadron. Three NCU battleships already based at Orestes, Ferdinand, Formidable, and Forgetmenot, are assigned to the White Sails, bringing its battleship numbers to seven. The eight is an older ship, NCU Aquarius from Nova Cincinnatus. It comes with its own gruff, onboard admiral. To his credit, he never challenges the authority of a former KRN captain whose crew he tried to force off-ship and register as refugees. A lone dreadnought, the ancient and creaky NCU Kars, is transferred to White Sails but relaunched as the Nunavut in honor of that fallen world. It’s the first warship designated for the ice-planet in over 700 years.
The escorts are a similarly mixed-lot. Magda gives Resolve to a new captain, recently promoted Émile Fontaine sitting in his first command chair. She retains all other escorts from Genève: Asimov, Guépard, Resolute, Terrible, Tyco Brae, and Triomphant. Five light cruisers join from Aral: Reckless, Renown, Revenge, Retribution, and Redoubtable. She’s given over 60 NCU destroyers and frigates as escorts, including 16 Amasian warships caught out of system on anti-phantom patrols when the homeworld was invaded. Alaska, Apache, Arapaho, Cheyenne, Comanche, Dakotas, Manitoba, Métis, Sioux and Yukon have crews drawn from the proud ethnic groups of the north Lemurian plains and tundra. From central Lemuria come crews of the light cruisers Aztec, Gansu, Henan, Hubei, Hunan, Idaho, Mixtec, and Shangxi. NCU Yutu or ‘Jade Rabbit,’ draws its crew from New Beijing. It’s the only Amasian destroyer to join the new fleet. It’s paired with a second warship dedicated to Nunavut, the brand new destroyer Tuktoyaktuk.
A heavy cruiser from Jos, JRN Jaytown, and one from Oyo, ORN Ibadan, also join for political and symbolic purposes. An infusion of capital ships and escorts is on the way from defeated fleets of Threes and Helvetics, but none arrive at Orestes before White Sails leaves on its first active combat cruise, a deep ‘butcher-and-bolt’ raid on Oceanus. It’s a quiet Grün resort favored by the Kestino elite. When even Briand questioned Harsa’s proposed soft target, he’s told by the Krevan ambassador on Kars: “It’s to show the bâtards on Kestino that there’s no place in Orion they’ll be safe from us. That we don’t just mean to kill the expendable soldiers they send at us in swarms. It’s to tell Pyotr and his Admitted that one day, we’re coming for them.” Briand formally approved and signed the target-order, in behalf of the Calmar Union.
Brought along to scout and then to sit at the escape LP when the raid is over, and delay any pursuit, are four of White Sails’ ten NCU phantoms. The others are on Orestes Base patrol or higher priority, convoy-intercept runs, looking for enemy troopships and supply transports. To carry out the ground raid on Oceanus is a newly formed marine assault force. It comprises eight NCU assault-boats and a dozen KRN special forces armored-schooners, all oddballs converted from the idled Little Ships fleets. Wysocki’s Wreckers, or 10th Commando, and a full division of Blue marines travels in the White Sails’ only underway troopships, Jutlandia and Warsaw.
Left at Orestes are another dozen marine assault-boats under construction, fast cargo-ships and five troopships under repair. Also four cargo ships, an ammo-factory, and all eight hospital ships: Argus, Comfort, Esperanza del Mar, Hope, Mercy, San Remo, Red Rover, and Relief. They form their own division within the NCU in any case, under independent command of Head of Army-Navy Cyber Surgical Corps, Dr. Lee Jin. Schooners and barks are being up-gunned and up-armored to serve White Sails as future couriers and scouts, and in covert insertion missions and butcher-and-bolt actions. But none are ready in time for the raid on Oceanus.
There are more exiled sailors pouring off the tens of thousands of Little Ships than can be hosted on available KRN warships. Georges Briand and Gaétan Maçon have a solution. They direct that in addition to the White Sails fleet a new KRN First Fleet be formed from all NCU ships currently located at Harsa Base, and any new ships to be built in the Harsa yards. They’re handed over to the War Government in a grand ceremony: 32 destroyers, 15 light cruisers, and 10 heavy cruisers. No battleships. Not yet. While lacking the big battle wagons makes this more of a fast-attack or strike-force than a true fleet, Harsa is well pleased. KRN is back in the war.
All one-time NCU warships are redone in KRN armored-paint. They’re clad in oakish carbyne-armor, with a proud new escutcheon etched into their tails. The old silver anchor of the KRN had a falcon perched in its crown, one claw gripping a lightning bolt promising war while the other held a scroll offering peaceful commerce. Now, both talons clutch harsh lightning bolts. On each ship’s prow is mounted a teak-base rondel carving of a sunflower, shielded inside thick but transparent armor. All will know that these ships belong to First Fleet. Know that Krevans will return home on warships with vengeance loaded in their forward tubes and broadside-guns.
The War Government is promised all future production from Orestes yards and control of all ground and orbital facilities at the former sanctuaries. Harsa and Orestes will make warships, but the other three Allied Base moons have no spaceyards, so they’re handed off to the KRA to train its rapidly forming fresh divisions of soldiers and commandos. Five moons become de facto Krevan worlds-in-exile. There’s muffled local protest, but the War Hawks chose the moons well before the war. Locals have no pull in the Lok Sabha. In exchange, Harsa formally agrees that Kars and Caspia will hold supreme command, while strategic decisions are to be jointly made.
White Sails fleet is designed for deep-strike operations. It’s supposed to be able to fight on its own for long periods, unsupported. Or that’s the Kars School theory. It’s never been tested. But it’s about to be, deep inside enemy territory and in many missions to come after that.
Hubris
At the top, the Alliance is working well. At ground level it’s another matter. Resentment toward refugees lingers among ordinary folk even after multiple invasions push the Calmar Union toward the event horizon over which all ‘little cousin’ Krevan worlds have disappeared.
It’s not just farfolk like Krevans, Helvetics and Threes who are resented. There are too many Calmari refugee ships flooding into the central and western systems as well. In worlds still untouched by a war where combat is still confined to the eastern frontiers, deeper inside Union space a grand illusion persists. Too many think the spreading war will leave them undisturbed.
Events say otherwise. All 24 Krevan worlds are under occupation, Grün or Dauran. So are nearly three-dozen Calmari worlds along the Union-Imperium border in the south and the Union-Dauran border area called ‘The Balcony,’ north of Nunavut and the Dead Zone. More by the Imperium. And the number is growing with more invasions of new systems every month.
The best governors burned archives, wiped data bases and destroyed codes, wrecking anything that might be of military value. The worst, and there were mo
re of these, drank dry all the ministerial cellars filled with reserves of Baku scotch, fine Aral red wines, and the famous orange-and-cherry brandies of Portus Cale. Two governors fled in stolen government shuttles. Briand had them arrested and charged with desertion in wartime. He’s going to hang them.
On Grün-occupied worlds the local memexes are immediately shut down and replaced by coarse Imperium vids, lots of dreary martial music and dull statist and SAC genetist propaganda. Behind every censored newscast flies a holo of the forest-green flag of the Tennō and Waldstätte, or the Black Eagle of the Imperium with rot claws reaching out menacingly to grasp … what?
Top military, science, and engineering elites are identified and arrested by SAC, while Pyotr’s political police, the Kempeitai, go after politicians and potential resistance leaders. Many are taken off-world. Others are killed in place by assassination squads with active black-lists of the local elites, typed and ranked by occupation, weight of influence, and targeting priority.
