by Kali Altsoba
But it greatly pleases Georges Briand and his followers. He speaks as often as he can in the Great Parliament and on Union GovNebs of “shared sacrifice in the caverns, where youth in oak and blue fought as one for freedom, resisting side-by-side against the Great Bull of tyranny deep inside the Labyrinth. As we resist all across Orion.” The rhetoric is a bit much, but it helps him break down the last opposition from Robert Hoare to formal declaration of a Grand Alliance.
The name is more than a bit pretentious since it only aligns the Calmar Union and Krevan government-in-exile on Harsa with two tiny star-statelets of just three and five inhabited worlds respectively, the Jos and Oyo Republics. Both are age-old Calmari clients, tucked high and tight above the main stars of the Union in the northwest corner of Orion. Their military is almost nil, but the two tiny republics have advanced industrial capacity along with ten big spaceyards in all. Even in peacetime they turned out mighty warships for the NCU as an economic mainstay. They join the new coalition as a matter of course, and self-interest. Without being asked or attacked.
Two months after the attacks on Nunavut and Portus Cale and the other frontier systems, just as the fight for Minotaur is lost, Kaigun and DRN invasions push into the exposed Helvetic Association and Three Kingdoms, last of the major Neutrals in central Orion. Two more violated peoples fall to the vanity of tyrants. Two more broken, desperate nations plea for aid that comes too small and too late. Two more governments flee into exile, and join the Alliance. More ships and broken armies from invaded and lost worlds arrive in Calmari space, asking to refit and arm.
While the Wreckers and KRA 1st Division fought on Minotaur, 152,000 fighters from Genève stayed on Harsa to defend the War Government. With formation of the Alliance, they’ve been upgrading with arms from Harsa’s ACU magazines and depots. Old hands train recruits from the few Genèvens who made it to Harsa, drawing also from millions of refugees from other lost worlds crowding into rough camps that abut the moon’s narrow terraformed-zone.
Already, there’s talk of finishing what Calmaris started, of terraforming far outside the equatorial belt to support tens of millions of refugees arriving from a dozen worlds. Already, swarms of ground-bots are seeding new land, air-bots are sculpting raw atmosphere, oort-cloud water-ice is on the way to Harsa to fill dug lake-beds and cap low mountains with manufactured snows that will feed new run-off rivers and downslope streams. Closed-environment domes are erected in the spartan outback, beyond the great rift valley that engirdles the half-broken moon.
There are some in the twin capitals who thought all Krevans were as cracked as Harsa. Georges Briand instead played a long game, secretly supporting the Aral government-in-exile’s takeover of Harsa and the other sanctuaries, arming KRA legions with whatever weapons and supplies he could beg or borrow from MoD on Caspia. Or that he could steal.
Before the attacks on Union systems, Robert Hoare wanted to get through the Krevan invasion and refugee crisis without too much fuss or bother. But the War Government ignored him, calling all able-bodied citizens to fight on from exile. Soon the five moons were no longer sanctuaries but heavily-armed Krevan military bases bristling with distrust and defiance of anyone in Orion who stood in the way of continuing the Krevan War with the Imperium.
There wasn’t much the PM could do about the arms the refugees brought with them to the sanctuaries, but he wouldn’t add to the weaponry or permit KRA units outside the five moons. Robert Hoare was unhappy so many refugees had barged into non-sanctuary systems in the first place, and damned if he would arm them, too. The PM suspected that Harsa was getting hidden support from Briand and others within his own MoD. He ordered an investigation into rumors of secret shipments from Argos and a ban on all arms deliveries to Harsa or the other sanctuaries.
“Arming the Krevan refugees could provoke Pyotr into attacking into Calmari space, as a form of preemptive self-defense. It could start a war no one wants.”
“Really quite unaccountable and unacceptable. I shall say so in tonight’s broadcast, too.” And so Virgiliu Nicolescu did, to the usual rounds of applause for wise statecraft and sagacity.
“They were supposed to follow the rules,” Sanjay Pradip sniffed. “Five sanctuaries only. Now they’re demanding to keep weapons and organize armies everywhere they have numbers!”
All that was before Robert Hoare sees the total collapse of a lifetime’s work for peace in two unprovoked aggressions, then collapses into himself with personal grief and political regrets.
Before Virgiliu Nicolescu is sacked as Director of SGR Intelligence, banned from the GovNebs, disinvited from the Very Best Parties hosted by Very Important Personages. Before off-world perfumeries stop filling his orders and the PM and Cabinet refuse all his calls.
Before he goes home one night and quietly kills himself. A blond and comely aide-de-camp attends his very private funeral and sheds a few tears. No one else from the government comes. It’s not even covered on the GovNeb. Time’s Arrow flies on, without Virgiliu Nicolescu.
Before Sanjay Pradip is ‘sent to coventry,’ told to spend his precisely-timed UST work days doing exactly nothing. Before he’s cut-off from all reports, left alone in his glass cubicle to spend his time with a new teacup that seems disinterested in its job and is always cold, thinking how he must spend his nights with cold curries served in silence by a disappointed Mrs. Pradip.
Before the Fourth Orion War came to all the worlds, before the Great Mare of the Kali Age raced across the skies of the Thousand Worlds scorching them with its fiery breath.
The Lok Sabra’s refusal to permit Krevan recruiters and trainers to work the huge refugee population outside the five sanctuaries lasts only until Calmari worlds are also attacked along the frontiers. Suddenly, everyone wants as many Krevan allies as they can possibly get into uniform, and the Union parliament agrees to finance, arm and supply them all. General Gaspard LeClerc bitterly says about that, while visiting Kars to consult Maçon and Briand: “Just like the prospect of being hanged, being invaded by two empires at the same time does tend to clear the mind.”
Briand laughs through an expanding balloon of blue pipe-smoke. He repeats it in the Lok Sabha the next day, while Robert Hoare looks on. Then the PM stands, only to churlishly point out that “this is an ancient witticism, not the minister’s own.” Then he sits down. Everything he does these days diminishes him. ‘Why can’t the man see he’s not wanted or needed, and resign?’
The next day even the PM agrees that 300 KRA infantry divisions should be raised from the refugee camps and Harsa’s new domes, all armed and outfitted by the Calmar Union. They’ll train alongside ACU conscripts now pouring into base camps and barracks. What the KRA lacks in heavy weapons its fighters make up for in hate and eagerness to get back into the war. What the ACU’s rookies lack in experience and hate, they make up for in superior equipment and firepower. Hate is better. it keeps you alive in combat longer. But they’ll acquire it soon enough.
CIS is astonished how fast the new KRA divisions are raised. Only Briand and a few confidants know that Harsa had a head start because it was indeed getting massive secret aid, shipped direct from ACU factories on Argos. Convoy-loads of arms and basic weapons and equipment had been set aside in Argos orbital storage by Gaétan Maçon and Gaspard LeClerc months before the war spread west. Maçon even put in an off-the-books order for 10,000,000 sets of pale-beige weaves, manufactured in big ceramics mills on Jos. That traditional ACU supplier never asked questions. It just quietly filled the order at a good profit. The uniforms arrived at Harsa and four other sanctuaries within days of Hoare being forced to lift restrictions on refugee recruiting. There still aren’t enough to outfit all the volunteers from the refugee camps where the Little Ships dropped so many young Krevans. A second order for 10,000,000 more uniforms is placed. And guns and HUDs, and water canteens and combat knives. And…
Genève 1st or ‘Gold Division’ is restored to full barracks-strength. The new recruits are raw. They’re eager to learn
and fight but just civis in shiny uniforms for now. It takes longer to rebuild Genève 2nd or ‘Silver.’ Not enough Southlanders made it off their continent, let alone off-world. Harsa considers abolishing Silver when Northlanders say they’ll serve only in Gold, or maybe downsize it to a Commando or Marine brigade. Then the Grand Alliance is declared and too-proud northerners are told: “Get the fuck over it. There’s a war on. Everyone’s just Alliance now. So you’re in Silver, boyos.” It doesn’t really seem to matter much after that.
Harsa goes even further as all military restrictions and the fighting gloves come off. It will represent all the lost worlds in its army-of-exile, regardless of real numbers or homeworlds of origin. It forms new units named for the Krevan homeworlds, then fills them with volunteers from all over. It’s actually a better system, and the start of a whole new sense of shared Krevan identity and solidarity across all the homeworlds. It also spreads out the casualties.
So non-Genèvens form four light infantry divisions designated ‘Genève.’ All get solid forest names: 3rd Genève or ‘Maple, 4th ‘Walnut,’ 5th ‘Beech,’ and 6th ‘Oak.’ Each division has some Genèven officers and rankers, but is also beefed-up with a heavy-weapons battalion from Aral. The six divisions form Genève 1st and 2nd Corps, together designated “1st Genève Army.”
Twenty-five more virgin infantry divisions are raised on Harsa itself, and given that designation: Harsa 1st Division, 2nd Division, and so on, organized into four armies. Another 200,000 are permanently based there, held outside any division structure as the War Government Guard. Just in case there’s a change in government policy on Kars or Caspia and someone on-high decides to try to remove the Krevans from their adopted bases. The new Guard also serves as a rotating reserve for the whole KRA, a place to train rookies and rest jaded combat veterans.
More levies are raised in huge refugee camps on the other four sanctuaries, and from ‘Little Brnos’ and ‘Little Arals’ and other shanty towns that sprouted in city outskirts on over 50 Calmari worlds as the Exodus fleets arrived. In just months, the War Government has a revived navy and a growing and fighting-fit army again. Thanks to its own grit and to the War Hawks under Georges Briand, who did it all right under the prime minister’s too aloof nose.
***
Back at Orestes, Captain Magda Aklyan sends what she thinks is a routine After-Action Report on the Minotaur operation to the War Government on Harsa. The reaction is anything but routine. Harsa copies it to the Krevan ambassador on Kars, who sends it to her contacts in MoD on Caspia, where it moves up the command chain to reach powerful War Hawks in the Cabinet.
Magda affirms Colonel Jan Wysocki’s blunt assessment of the fighting, that command-and-control needs to be tighter and lines-of-authority clearer. “We have to do better to make this a real alliance. We need more joint training, especially at the navy-to-navy level where command codes and tactics differ enough to cause real worry about potential critical misunderstandings. NCU has the ships and are the senior partner. Let’s recognize that and work with them. KRN officers should defer to the NCU on all routine and operational matters, though not on strategy.”
She agrees with Jan that things are changing for the better in relations on Clytemnestra and Orestes. She explains it just as he does. “Shared sacrifice, shared losses, common goals, and a hard determination not just to survive but to take back the lost worlds, Calmari and Krevan.”
She concludes. “I have enormous respect for all ground forces engaged in the operations and the courage of sailors in both navies. Let us always remember that the Minotaur Rearguard fought and died side-by-side. They sacrificed so that others might live to fight on, regardless of the color of their uniforms. Let us remember them as the ‘troops without colors.’ We must honor their sacrifice by winning through, however dark this present hour. Let us make this their legacy and our promise. We in the Alliance shall fight henceforth without colors, to ultimate victory. Minotaur was a loss, yes. But a credit to our joint effort. It’s proof that the Grand Alliance can and will work. This war is not over. This war is not lost. This war is just beginning. Aklyan out.”
She means every word. Her sincerity and determination break though the terse prose, impressing everyone from Harsa to Kars to Caspia, though that was never her intention. Briand orders a secret review of her wartime career, watches live-action recorded by Combat Bridge and Signals and gun cameras at the Genèven Moons, The Gauntlet rise off Genève and escape run to the L2. He’s impressed by her calm in desperate fighting over Minotaur, both on the way in-and-out of the caves. More missions follow, including two more butcher-and-bolt raids with Wildfire. More evidence comes back of her inspired and inspiring leadership and tactical command skills.
Memos fly between Kars and Caspia and Harsa, promises are made and great careers and reputations are laid on the line at the highest levels, all on deep-background and behind the prime minister’s back. Then it’s done. Captain Aklyan is shocked to be promoted to one-star admiral in the KRN. She’s far more stunned to be given command of the first-ever, joint Alliance fleet.
Gaétan Maçon and Georges Briand have Admiral Aklyan’s back, though she doesn’t know it. It’s leadership and drive that gets her jumped over so many in her own navy and the NCU. Officially, her combat record is cited to blustering admirals to explain why a Krevan is by-passing thousands of older, career officers like them. Maçon knows that what it took to rise to admiral in a peacetime navy is light-years behind what it takes to stay one in a real war. He also understands that in wartime you can kick an overrated and underqualified NCU Admiral right in the nuts and he just has to take it. He’s doing lots of nut-kicking over this Aklyan business.
“Yes admiral, you are indeed senior. No, I don’t give a godsdamn about your high Party connections. I’m going to be frank. You’re not as experienced at war ops as this ‘upstart Krevan captain,’ as you call her. Matter of fact, you’ve never commanded a tug in combat. So back off. You’ll serve with Admiral Aklyan, you’ll serve under her if and when ordered. Or I’ll strip that braid off your shoulder boards right now and you can be a ship’s cook, if you like. Or do the navy a real service and just fucking resign. Is that understood? Are we perfectly clear now?”
Alliance politics is all in her favor, even if she’s unaware. Briand, Maçon and the War Government all agree that appointment of a Krevan to head the first Alliance fleet will rally morale and cement political relations. The Alliance needs leaders who embody shared sacrifice. Minotaur is a bad defeat, but it will do. It gets huge play in propaganda news reports. Aklyan’s leadership is said to embody the shared spirit of the caves of Minotaur, to signal Alliance unity and resolve. It does assure the last Neutrals still standing sidelined in a widening war that joining the coalition won’t mean total submission to the Calmar Union. Politically, it’s a shrewd play.
“Don’t let us down, admiral.”
Magda’s skill and bravery and quick-thinking in combat does warrant her multiple-step promotion and elevated command. But what really gains her a one-star admiral’s rank and an Alliance fleet is not that, or her call for a color-blind Allied policy. It’s a remark she barely remembers making and never put in the report. It was passed along to Briand and impressed him mightily, even more than her field report and combat leadership. It’s why he personally reached deep into the agreed-on Alliance officer-pool and plucked out a “promising young war leader.”
The story is a simple one, coming out of an exchange Magda had with the Yardmaster at Orestes while discussing repairs after her return from Minotaur with Wildfire squadron. It’s not what the fat and dull-minded Yardmaster said that matters. He’s just another obtuse officer who rose past his level of incompetence in peacetime service. He’s a man of some position who has no aptitude for war. He’ll be replaced soon enough. The blowtorch of losing in war will burn off dross like him, exposing the iron core of the Calmar Union. He’ll lose his office in under three months, for failure to keep up the pace of yard repairs to mat
ch the constant arrival of damaged warships. There’ll also be that small matter of millions in embezzled credits. If not for the rude interruption of war he’d get away with it all. Get away with gross incompetence, sloth and theft.
Not now that Georges Briand is in charge and peruses the report on Magda’s exchange with the Yardmaster, warming powerfully to her while sending instructions to investigate and clear out the officious little bureaucrat. When he finishes reading, Briand puts down the scroll, refills his still smoke-curling pipe, and sends an urgent message to Maçon and LeClerc.
“The time is now. Fire all top command levels if you have to, but get real talent in place and fear into the bureaucrats. We need people in leadership we can count on to work hard and fight harder, and drive everyone around them to greater effort. It doesn’t matter if we’re liked. It’s better to be feared in any case. Time to frighten everyone standing in the way of defending this great Union. Or just standing around, doing nothing to help. This war is not going to be fought on battlefields or in the space lanes alone. We must think of war as a whole. Logistics are our taut sinews and the greatest advantage we have over Daura and the Imperium. More than winning the frontier battles, we need to make and to move vast volumes of war matériel to the fronts. It’s how we’ll win in the end. So get rid of all little shits like this Yardmaster. Briand out.”