“This may explain why we have not been able to identify any dedicated troops transports.” Garret glanced over at Compton. “Perhaps they don’t need them. They have room enough in each of their warships for a strike force of robots.”
Compton leaned back in his chair and nodded. “What do you think, Jack?”
Winton set his glass down on the table. “I agree completely, Admiral Compton. I think that is a highly likely scenario. We can be sure it will be very difficult to estimate the size of the enemy’s ground force reserves from an analysis of fleet units present. It is also likely they can deploy far larger numbers than they have to date. If Colonel Teller had defeated the enemy on Cornwall, it is very possible they could have simply landed another strike force as large as the first. Or not. Or twice as large. We just don’t know.”
Holm sighed, a little louder than he’d intended. “We’ve never had to fight a war where we know so little about the enemy. We’re just going to have to take our best guesses and move based on those.”
Winton was nodding as Holm spoke. “I agree, general. My best guess is that the enemy has ground capability we haven’t seen yet. And if those ships are also heavily automated that frees up even more space.”
“Well, all we can do is keep our guard up.” Garret wanted to move the meeting along. “We’re already committing everything we can scrape up anyway.” He looked over at Winton. “Let’s move on to any other insights, Jack.”
Winton cleared his throat. “Yes, admiral. I think we can say with a reasonable degree of confidence that the enemy is experiencing some sort of logistical problem. Our analysis of the enemy hulls suggests that they can carry more anti-matter weapons than we have seen used…even restricting these to external mounts only. It certainly looks like a shortage to me. Whether it is an overall lack of sufficient ordnance or a transport problem in bringing it to the front, we don’t know. It is possible that both conditions exist. But, at present, the enemy seems to have sharply limited supplies of their most powerful weapons.”
“That will make Colonel Spark’s ECM drones even more useful. If their supplies are low already and we can trick them into expending what they do have, we may be able negate the antimatter weapons entirely.” Compton was speaking to everyone, but he was looking at Garret.
“At least once or twice.” Garret’s voice was distant; he was deep in thought as he spoke. “They’re not stupid, we can be sure of that much. It would be foolish for us to believe we can deceive them repeatedly.” He was looking out across the table, but he wasn’t focusing on anyone. “Though I would like to discuss some thoughts I have on the enemy’s tactics.” He turned toward Winton, his eyes clear and focusing again. “Before me move on, do you have anything else to add, Jack?”
Winton thought for a second. There was one other thing on his mind, but he wasn’t sure if he should bring it up. “Well…there is one more subject I wanted to broach.” He was clearly uncomfortable.
“Go ahead, Jack.” Garret slapped his hand lightly on the table. “Whatever you have to say, just say it.”
“Well, sir. The evacuation plans…they are drawing off a significant percentage of our transport capacity. And now we’ve been talking about moving people off Sandoval and the other worlds along the enemy’s path.”
“What are you saying, Jack? That we should leave those civilians to die?” Admiral Compton looked incredulous.
“No sir. I am not saying that at all.” Winton was a little nervous. He didn’t like being cast as some cold-hearted mathematician sacrificing lives as if he were moving numbers on a spreadsheet. But he knew they just couldn’t ignore the problem either. “What I am saying is that you may find yourself fighting the enemy without missiles or trying to defend worlds with understrength ground units.” Winton hadn’t intended to end up as the one advocating leaving colonists behind to be slaughtered, but they had to discuss this issue. If they lost this war for lack of weapons and troop transport, the civilian casualties would be astronomical. Possibly the entire human race.
“I’m sorry, Jack.” Compton’s voice was apologetic. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” He stared silently at Winton for a few seconds. “It’s just hard to compare saving lives to carting missiles.”
“We’re going to have to compare them if we want to win this war.” Garret’s voice was firm. “There is no point pretending otherwise. We’re going to requisition every civilian craft we can get our hands on and do everything possible to get as many people as possible off these worlds.” He looked around the table, cold determined eyes staring at each individual present in turn. “But the war effort has priority. It has to.”
He slid back his chair and stood up. “People are going to die in this fight. This isn’t the kind of war we’ve fought before…petty squabbles over new resource worlds. This is a war for survival, plain and simple. Everybody in this room needs to realize that right now. We are not going to rip into each other because we’re angry and frustrated that we had to leave civilians behind so we could supply our troops and ships. Of course we’re upset…but taking it out on each other isn’t going to accomplish anything.” The volume of his voice was increasing. He wasn’t yelling, not exactly. But he was making his point forcefully. “We are going to have to cooperate with…to trust…old enemies. We are going to have to be coldly realistic in everything we do…even if that means pulling troops off a world and leaving the civilians behind.” He slapped his hand down on the table, harder this time. “Because the only thing we can’t do…the one truly unthinkable thing…is to lose this war.”
The room was silent for a long moment. Garret had done what he had to do, said what needed to be said. He and Holm were technically equals in the joint military establishment, but Garret was older and had served longer at command rank. He was informally considered the overall commander…by Holm as well as everyone else. It had been his responsibility to address head on the concerns that were eating away at them all. They were all scared, and everyone knew that. That last thing they needed was to be at each other’s throats besides.
Garret could see it in the faces around the table - he’d made his point. He gave them all another few seconds to consider what had been said. “I trust that we are all on the same page now.” He stepped back behind his chair and started walking slowly around the room. “I will assume from the silence that we are in agreement. If we can move on now, I’d like to discuss some tactical issues. General Holm and I have reviewed every engagement in excruciating detail, and we have developed a few useful insights.”
“First, while the enemy’s technology is vastly superior to our own, their tactics are decidedly mediocre. At least to the extent we have seen to date.” He was walking slowly back and forth along the table as he spoke. “Admiral West’s attack was a brilliant maneuver. Nevertheless, even factoring in the surprise the admiral achieved, the enemy seemed to be exceptionally non-reactive…as if the audacity of her plan was difficult for them to comprehend. Admiral Compton and I have gamed the scenario several times. Against a strong opponent, Admiral West’s fleet would have gained a considerable edge, but she would never have managed to hit with her missile barrage while antimatter weapons were still mounted. Certainly not multiple times.”