We were gathered onboard Half-Measure for this officer's meeting, on the command deck where we floated in zero-g quite casually. It was something that still admittedly felt a little surreal for me. Because c'mon.
I'm fucking floating in space.
Thankfully due in part to 'my' background and choice in career, I found myself handling the lack of gravity quite naturally, almost on instinct. It wasn't like swimming so much as it was just grabbing onto the handles and using them to get around so weightlessly. There were even nifty motorized handles in corridors to let people traverse them swiftly and easily.
All of my subordinates too moved with experienced familiarity in these conditions, as the nature of the Half Committee had demanded one simply get very comfortable with being on transit ships quite often while on campaign. The exception to this was Erica, who wasn't even part of my command. Unlike the rest of us bobbing about, her feet were firmly glued to the metal floor via a set of mag-locks. Because as it turned out, she was a veteran ground campaigner. Not a spacer.
She nearly caused a pretty bad collision from misjudging how much force she ought to launch herself forwards through the space, needing me to catch her ankle and pull her back before she cracked her skull open. I think given the flat glare she was giving me, it was quite unwelcomed contact which I couldn't blame her. Though it feels like ever since I gave her my office to sleep in, she's been very heated towards me for whatever reason.
I'll just chalk it up to her being stressed the hell out, and wanting to be done with this sector.
Eventually, the holodeck flickered and came to life to display Veronica's avatar. "Casket transferal successful. Apologies for the wait sirs."
"It'll be good to have you back onboard my ship," Captain Feng gruffly told with a nod. "Now then, the floor is yours, Commander."
"Thank you. I believe each of you have already been given a very basic brief on what our upcoming mission will be." They all gave a crisp, professional nod. Quenching any possible reservations or personal thoughts about my decision to get involved, and presenting the disciplined front that the Half Committee had been known for. "Now that we are all gathered, Veronica can deliver a much more detailed analysis. One that covers missing details about our opposition thanks to First to Draw sending over their records. I would like to hand the floor over to her now."
"Thank you, sir. Without further ado then, allow me to describe the incoming OPFOR." Her persona stepped to the side to allow the holodeck to display the images of two near-identical frigates, highlighting it with additional notes and details. "Our opponents will be elements of the Fourteenth Combined Fleet, formerly of the Half Committee. Based on existing records and presuming no great internal upheaval, the overall commander of this task force should be Vice Admiral Ibutsu."
"Ibutsu. I know him." My direct fleet subordinate crossed his arms. "He's very...traditional. Very conservative."
"Including the part where he often pulls rank to requisition everything without proper procedure. Or accounting," muttered Nasir before they let out a cough. "Erm. Sorry for interrupting."
Rowles didn't comment so openly, but her scowl told me a lot about what the army thought about Ibutsu. Not that I could blame her or any of my officers, because 'I' had met the man before. And they weren't exaggerating to suck up to me.
When you think of a stick-in-the-mud, 'my way was better before all you youngsters' officer, you thought of Ibutsu. He was experienced, for sure, but he's also very inflexible when it comes to adapting doctrine. If I had to describe how he fought in wargames, he's the type of player who always uses the exact same force, the exact same details, brought even the exact same dice to roll with.
If you beat him, he'd be upset and denounce you for being a free-thinking radical that hasn't the discipline to withstand a real battle. If he beat you, he'd simply proclaim that the old ways were always the best ways- and this was just proof that we all needed to learn from him and his ways. I think maybe he was hoping to achieve glory as being like the defining mentor of naval doctrine for the Half Committee.
Thankfully, higher-ups saw right through this and recognized a variety of commanders, each specialized in different aspects, was more suitable than trying to force a single, arguably outdated one onto all of them. Though he did have his way in some regards, like the Half Committee's lacking investment in legionspace, but that might also just be the lack of many NHPs among us.
With these faults in mind then, assuming it was indeed him in charge, then we already knew the playbook he was using. Or at least the naval officers did, with the other branches (and one outsider) still a bit behind. Veronica helpfully explained it to them. "Though it is very unlikely that Ibutsu will be present himself, he is most likely the ultimate superior to whom these vessels report to. With that in mind, I have concluded with high probability that this is following the seizure doctrine."
"In where you detach a few capital ships to chase and capture fleeing ships, especially those which have been so thoroughly mauled or damaged. So their ultimate goal is indeed to claim First to Draw," I summarized up to Erica, who looked murderous at that thought.
Well, more so than normal at least. "Like hell that's going to happen while I'm still alive." She reached for her belt, only to be stopped by a very firm gaze from Feng. "Right. No smoking on the bridge," she grumbled.
"I dislike the smell. Miss Veronica, please continue."
"Because the Vice Admiral likes to have a very...standardized task force, we even would known what ships these are and their armaments. Something that I have been able to confirm from the recordings provided by First to Draw." My adjutant listed the specifications. "They are Bakunawa-class frigates, equipped with dorsal razorback missiles and accompanied by a mounted mech wing."
"Bakunawa-class," I repeated, thinking. "That's an IPS-N ship model. A very aggressive one at that. Two of them might actually challenge a Farragut-class carrier."
"Oh, so them beating our ass was to be expected?" Erica grumbled. "Fucking Interplanetary. Figures they had fingers in with the Half Committee as well."
"Miss Erica, the dorsal razorback missiles are of Harrison Armory make."
"Fucking Harrison Armory too," she muttered darkly. It definitely couldn't have been a nice feeling to be shot at by your own employer by accidental proxy.
I cleared my throat, eager to move on. "More importantly than just their origin, we know they are suited specifically for long-ranged fire and support thanks to how they're outfitted." Which actually made sense, as the most distinguishing aspect of this frigate model was the fact it actually was a miniature carrier in itself. "No wonder why your inexperienced ground-based forces were trounced. The enemy wings are likely committed naval pilots who've been flying for a while."
"Which means that they'd probably be better than us too," Rowles admitted begrudgingly. "Sure, mine are at least trained and a little experienced per standard cross-branch training- but they'd look very green compared to the doubtless veterans attached to these ships."
So we couldn't beat them in a dogfight in space. Which ironically made the carrier that allied with us paradoxically quite useless then, though it at least did have guns. That had been the hopeful silver lining, until Veronica listed out the full injuries to First to Draw that made Feng and I blanched.
If we had been presented with such a damage report in the middle of a battle, I wouldn't hesitate to strike my colors and my captain would instantly agree. Maybe it was telling of the relative inexperience in naval combat that Erica's team had that they just didn't know when to give up, and kept fighting beyond what most spacers would call a reasonable state of things. Admirable, yes, but if we were to bring First to Draw in, she couldn't even serve as a meatshield.
Those things were ordinarily expected to at least survive one hit before rupturing badly.
Most damning of all was the extensive destruction done to what made the Farragut-class special amid others of its weight range, the supplementary guns. They were scrap. "Lieutenant Nasir, by your estimations, how long would these repairs take?"
They winced and shook their head. "Unfortunately sir, the most optimistic estimation I could provide would be certainly well-after whenever this OPFOR arrives in this system. As we mostly possess schedule 1 printers with scant few schedule 2s, we would need to manufacture individual parts and then assemble them together afterwards, piece by piece. Had we perhaps even some schedule 3s or even these orbital dockyards, those schedule 4s, it perhaps be so much faster.
"More worryingly, sir, is that the weapon systems are thoroughly scrap. Forget repairing them; We would need to remove and replace them. Which means even more time in the berth, hampered particularly by our lack of heavy production."
I'll admit, I was just fuming just a little bit when I turned to face Erica. She noticed my expression and shrugged apologetically. "Sorry. I knew things were bad, but I wasn't aware that it was that bad."
"If we get through this, either you never command a ship again or take a crash course on naval operations," I ground out. I turned back to the holodeck and exhaled, releasing my frustration and stress briefly. "No matter. It just means we truly face quite a struggle now."
When I had agreed to help out, it had been with the understanding that it'd be a two-on-two fight between capital ships. The escorts likely matched up to whatever we had, with no notable supplements or augments between, and at least keep each other tied up. Which was what some of the larger escorts that attached themselves to capital ships did.
But now, forget it. It was a two-on-one in reality, with a cheerleader on our side. One in a wheelchair no less.
Bloody hell. Talk about a challenge.
"Captain. Give it to me honest: could you win in a match again them?"
Feng seemed to give it all fair consideration before replying. "Frankly sir, Half-Measure could perhaps win in a straight duel against single one. If we were to happen to stay at right range, our own primary and secondary batteries could potentially overwhelm them. In my experience, once Bakunawas start taking hits, they start collapsing quite quickly. Which is why these are very much oriented around staying out of frontline combat.
"That being said, I'm afraid we have no established counter to their wings. Our turrets could perhaps spook them, but if they're only half as experienced as we think, they wouldn't be so easily deterred." He gestured to the damage on the hologram of First to Draw. "Then they would be able to disable our primary guns and allow the mechs to board at their pleasure. I suspect that's even the ploy which had been employed there."
"Yep." Erica once again made to reach for a smoke and was stopped by the ship captain's glare. So she settled for just taking out her lighter and angrily flicking the top, opening and closing it to take the edge off. "They strafed right over and blasted our gunnery. Our turret operators couldn't keep up."
Neither would our ballistics unless we focus fired upon them. Which would then be a waste and give the frigates time to cycle their missiles and strike us again. No, Half-Measure absolutely had to focus all their efforts on an enemy frigate to have a chance to bringing it down.
And yet there were two of them too, which only exacerbated the difficulty of this entire engagement.
Can't forget about the mech wings either. Ugh.
Rowles finally voiced what we'd all been thinking with this updated information. "Sir. This is looking to be a very...unadvised encounter. We maybe should ought to consider picking a better fight."
"...And I won't blame you, honestly," Erica admitted with a groan. "I didn't know it was this bad. Now I really feel bad about dragging you in."
I considered it, then shook my head. "Regardless of if it's something we can take head-on, the likelihood that Vice Admiral Ibutsu will be alerted to our presence and likely demand our compliance is quite high. So if we were to comply or even just take a neutral stance in the matter, we'd still end up being a target," I reassured the corporate mercenary with a nod. "At least this way, we can hopefully get on better terms with Harrison Armory. Assuming we survive, that is."
"Perhaps that should be our objective instead?" Feng proposed. "Just surviving."
"Tempting, but I feel that we haven't yet accounted for everything." I placed my hands against the edge of the holodeck and locked eyes with Veronica. "What does the local space look like? Do we have anything like a meteor shower incoming, passing comet, solar flare…?"
"Local forecasts indicate no such interstellar phenomenon is scheduled to take place. Though regarding what the space around Cavia does have, repairs to the orbital dockyards are progressing quite well."
Nasir perked up at the mention. "Oh, right! Apologies sir, for not delivering my report until now." They tapped hastily at a tablet they carried and a display of the space station around Cavia I appeared. "We've been making amazing progress in that regard, with some of Harrison Armory's engineers helping out too. They've a lot more experience in these habitats than us. They've even gotten the spin worked out to help create gravity!"
"I suspect it more to be out of desperation than expertise," dryly remarked Feng, glancing over to Erica who was liked rooted in place. "You really haven't experienced sailors among you."
"Buzz off. We like burning worlds, not burning vacuum." She made a face and glanced at me. "Why don't you install a grav generator onto your ship anyway? Surely it's more comfortable than just floating around? I've been nagging the engineers to install one on our carrier, but they keep saying it's just not reasonable."
I shrugged and made a show of stepping to mag-lock myself to the deck to walk about, then unlocking to float freely again. "It's quite natural honestly, and a generator takes up a lot of space. Maybe for something like a much larger ship like a battleship or dreadnought, but for a frigate, space is premium. Not to mention that I believe it is quite expensive too, even for Harrison Armory."
Well, I say that, but the scale of one was still quite absurd. Almost to the point where mechs could walk through parts of the vessel. Heck, everything was quite large, staggeringly so to accommodate the idea of mechs being able to stomp around. Even...the orbital dockyards…
"Veronica," I asked urgently, an idea springing to mind. "The gravity on the station. How strong is it?"
The NHP showed a flicker of surprise on her face before schooling her expression back. "Sir, the projected rate indicates that it'll be maintaining about just half under the Terran standard. So it's fairly weightless, but not as a pure vacuum."
"How about the environment? It's enclosed, right?"
"That is currently next on the docket to be repaired, for a sealed controlled environment that one could walk around in without need of a hardsuit. Though one is certainly still advised, given a breach could still be quite dangerous."
"Commander?" Feng questioned, brow furrowed. "What are you thinking?"
My mind was abuzz with a plan. But one that also depended entirely on our temporary ally, who I turned to now. "Erica. You said that your team of mechs is wholly unbeatable when it comes to groundside operations, right?" Not least of all because I suspected she was an aspiring Lancer.
She blinked, then nodded. "We might not be Mirrorsmoke, but we're pretty good so long as it doesn't involve flying in space-" The ball dropped for her too and her head snapped back onto the rotating projection of the orbital facilities. "...I see. You're changing the battlefield."
"What?" Rowles exclaimed openly. "We're going to bait them into landing an invasion on Cavia?"
"No," I said with a grin. "We're going to bait them into landing on the orbital dockyards and enter a controlled environment that would almost replicate planetside conditions. I'm expecting that those navy pilots probably won't be as good as you in a mirror case of the cross-branch training- and they'll be going up against experts who do it for a regular paycheck.
"And we already have the perfect bait to lure them in too. If they want First to Draw so badly, let's serve it up on a platter that they can't refuse!"