Bloody hell, I think Erica unleashed her own version of hell when her team assaulted and captured La Azul. Yeesh, this internal damage!
I mean, I guess I really had no right to complain given that I hadn't been personally with her in leading the attack. So she'd done only what she probably felt was necessary to win the battle, at which point practically everything could be forgiven. You couldn't pick and choose how to fight after all, only just what was arguably most effective in limiting the conflict.
Which, to her credit, she had done so via eliminating the enemy officer to break morale. I think as well it probably had an effect on the actions of my own opponent in that naval duel, given how the psychological profile had described the two as being attached to one another. Perhaps in another life, they could've been closer- ah, let's not get too far into those what-ifs. If only to not make myself saddened by the necessity of their deaths.
For now, what mattered more was that while it was technically intact, La Azul absolutely needed serious repairs before she'd be combat-capable again. It was at least a damn sight better than John's Widow, which was an absolute write-off in comparison with a shattered keel and blown citadel. Maybe we could cannibalize parts from the wreck to fix-up the damaged frigate? I'd have to talk with Lieutenant Nasir about it.
Because failing that, parts for a Bakunawa-class frigate line simply wasn't something we carried in our current lineup of printer chips. We had only design schematics for our Huron-class flagship, which had been the Half Committee standard in majority battlefleets when introduced. It was honestly surprising even that the Fourteenth Mixed Fleet deviated so.
Though maybe it was something that Vice Admiral Ibutsu had settled upon long ago, then refused to change when the Huron-class became favored for its wider fleet support capabilities. It could maybe even just be a sign of his ties to IPS-N, something I very much lacked. So no way could I dial up the local megacorp branch to ask them for customer support on this matter when I wasn't even a subscriber in the first place.
Still, the appeal of expanding my fleet with another frigate was so alluring, almost enough to make me want to try at least. But I held off on the urge for the time being, reasoning that while I could replace the metal, there was no way to replace the flesh. Especially when Erica's little rampage incinerated or crippled a good portion of the crew onboard.
The rest who surrendered as well were also a massive headache for me to deal with, ugh. We'd collected the life pods that jettisoned from John's Widow and tossed the survivors in with the captured personnel on the orbital facility, holding them in temporary brigs for the time being as I tackled the very difficult question of what to do with them. Everybody else seemed to be at loss as well, which I was actually glad for.
The fact they hadn't gone for the Half Committee's established doctrine of press-ganging them was a good thing in my books. Even Veronica didn't make a peep about that, instead just communicating with the people of Cavia I down below. And she actually came up with a very handy solution based off that.
While we did smash up the labor camps that House Hessin had run, the abandoned base that Major Rowles' forces had moved out of was still there. It was beat-up and not great, but it would work for a time. It at the very least wasn't a featureless metal box that felt cold and unwelcoming, given how the space habitats still remained quite threadbare.
As for a long-term solution on what to do, I think I honestly would advise the new administration coming up to process them fairly. Have interviews to see which ones were done fighting and just wanted a ride to the spaceport, which could be obliged. Figure out which ones were real pieces of work that couldn't be allowed back into the general populace, conscripted penal soldiers and the like that the Half Committee sometimes did.
Then take in those who expressed genuine interest in continuing to serve, but under a different flag. Maybe a little risky to take those on, admittedly, but a veteran sailor was always a valuable asset for navies throughout Union. The chance of them biding their time for a betrayal later was there, yes, but it also was the duty of the ship captain to straighten up and imbue a stronger loyalty to the new crew than their old bunks. Sometimes, it was even easier if groups of friends decided to jump ship together.
Well, that was an entire thing that would unfortunately land in my lap to deal with come the new government. But I could handle that, I think. Especially when we also reaped the benefits in capturing a bunch of mechs as well. So now we had a supply of naval-outfitted Everests. Neat.
Quite wisely, when the wings realized that their motherships were either captured or destroyed, the mech pilots surrendered without further fight or flight. Admittedly, the latter would have been quite the stretch, but there was the chance that some daring souls would look at the planet below and take their chances in going to ground on it. Almost quite literally.
But it seemed like these navy pilots realized that they would be among very unfriendly locals with limited awareness of the immediate environment or even society, so they made things easy for both themselves and me. Whew, it would've been really bad if they landed, found the local insurgency movement, and joined up.
...Come to think of it, I should probably insist on folks doing a double-check to account for all heads, surviving or deceased. That absolutely sounds like the start to a Lancer campaign that'd be very bad for my health.
I also was purposefully ignoring the actual Lancer who had emerged, and was recognized as such by the awed soldiers from all sides. Erica seemed to be more bothered and grumpy by the reputation, stating that she was just doing her job. To which I had to point out she did her job, and went beyond because the original plan had been to just at least pressure the docked frigate from disengaging so casually while Half-Measure dueled the other. Not...outright capture it with a very below-average team size.
That'd been quite the stretch goal that she lit on fire.
But given she wasn't pouring napalm on me as well, I guess that the powers that be within this setting haven't yet convinced her that I was 'an evil to overcome.' Though I feel like she was keeping an eye on me to slip up, so I better be on my best behavior! Especially when the apparent dominoes finally fell at the Harrison Armory upper management that resulted in the woman being ordered to stay put for the time being, until the heads stopped rolling.
I get the feeling that was both figurative and literal. Maybe with an entire corporate power play going on within their own executive decisions.
Anyways, aside from our temporary guests from afar, there was also a matter of local populations to consider. Namely, their reaction to the battle fought overhead quite literally, a clash in their very orbit that left a bit of a mess. It's hard to miss the floating corpse that was John's Widow.
I had done my best to keep congress informed of the matter at hand, making plenty of apologies for needing to involve the defunct dockyards that were technically their property. Yet something that we had to use to attain our own victory at the time. I think they were a little miffed, but were otherwise quite supportive of the matter, surprising me. It did leave me scratching my head until Director Melhof came by later, and revealed why the people's representatives were so accepting of the collateral damage.
Apparently very shortly after the battle had concluded, recordings of the engagement were acquired by CBS and used to accompany news clips reporting the fight. Then the tapes themselves leaked into the omninet with longer, unedited cuts that showed the firefight between Major Rowles and Lieutenant Aoba in full. The gunfight between soldiers and mechs received overwhelming attention, bordering on adoration, the sight of their 'local celebrity' defending against the aggressors sparking widespread engagement. Fueling their fixation on big stompy robots even more.
Huh. Cavia was turning into a population of real enthusiasts for mechanized walkers. More so than normal I mean, at least in this setting.
So the elected representatives of the people were in on it too, and let slide the need for battle. Giving me no more than a solemn nod and telling me 'you did what you had to.' I did still go into detail about the engagement itself to help live up to my promise of full transparency, alongside providing a video clip of Half-Measure's duel with John's Widow. Something that they watched quietly with respect.
The same could not be said about when the session and the aforementioned clip was uploaded to the omninet by a well-meaning Melhof, which suddenly propelled me into the local spotlight as well. Something that I definitely didn't expect.
Maybe it was a bleedover from the high that people were feeling from the victory. Especially because it was stressed that I had been the overall commander of the operation, with larger-than-life subordinates who executed my 'vision' flawlessly. Erica thankfully seemed more amused when she read comments lumping her in with my command, despite my attempted clarifications that Harrison Armory did not fall under my jurisdiction.
Ugh, I guess it was just a bit of attention that would go away soon enough. Especially because now that the little crisis was over, congress could proceed with electing a Premier in good faith, without the shadow of possible hostile invasion hanging over them. And it was then that I learned that I had actually been nominated as a possible candidate for the position.
The heck?
I mean, I guess it was maybe like a pity vote or submission? Something to maybe look like there was an actual incumbent to challenge? So I didn't lodge a protest then, just raising my eyebrow before getting back to work about taking inventory and stock. Ignoring all the attention that was buzzing around the various media channels.
So I guess it really was my fault then when I next checked and saw that I actually received support from the three political factions that made up the congress. The reformists, progressives, and centrists all wanted me...to become their first Premier.
Um. Okay. Slightly freaking the fuck out now.
Veronica, help me! Tell me that I'm not actually getting that many votes for the position?!
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"Congress has concluded and the votes are tallied, commander." The NHP processed it for a moment, then turned to me with a salute. "Congratulations are in order. You are requested to be the first Premier for the Cavia Committee."
I sucked in a deep breath, desperately trying not to scream in my office. It was just her and me present, so there was a degree of secrecy to the matter, but I felt it still quite improper to blow out her audio microphones with a keeling noise of of despair. So I settled for just a haggard sigh, crashing into my chair with a blank stare at the ceiling.
Goddammit. I should have insisted harder for popular elections by the people, not by congress!
Okay, wait. I had to understand and take in how bad this could be. "How close was the margin? Are you allowed to disclose such things?"
"I am indeed via the public transparency clauses in the founding constitution. And bluntly speaking, sir, it isn't a question of how close it is- it's more a measure of how far the others are from you. You have more votes alone than all other candidates combined."
What, really? "Let me have a look."
Veronica displayed the results and my goodness, she wasn't exaggerating it. Which made things suddenly quite tricky for me to just...decline the role. I mean, I could do that.
But I'd also probably be setting a terrible precedent given just overwhelming the support for me was. It'd be like pulling a grenade pin out, then handing it to the fellow next to me to fix. While also probably remaining in the vicinity for the fallout.
Ugh, and this is what the people could also see right? Their representatives pushing for me to formally transition from a temporary to a legitimized seat of power. So if I turned it down, I couldn't imagine how many would be very disappointed or angered by my lack of service. Especially if whoever happened to come afterwards really screwed the pooch.
Argh! But on the other hand, if I take the position, I'd actually look like a dictator with these suspicious results! This is the sort of election rigging that 'presidents-for-life' would have! The type that made one wonder if there wasn't secret a parked mech right outside the polling stations to 'remind' voters about who provided security in their community. Except it was a congress of elected representatives that chose the Premier, not a popular vote.
To make sure, I checked and yup. The temporary office building that they'd been using (we'd have to get that addressed sooner or later) definitely wasn't placed under guard or anything, more so than the necessary security measures at least. So I was very sure that none of my forces hadn't done anything remotely coercive or menacing to get these results, it was just literally the will of the people to elect somebody who also controlled the armed forces.
...Yeah, no. Just...thinking about that sounded so blatantly suspect that it had to be a set up for some evil planetary ruler that a team of Lancers would fight against. Stars above, this was the sort of cobbled-together explanation that a GM would rush in a brief before the big mech boys came to play-
Oh no, was that perhaps why the locals also were developing into mech aficionados?! So they could cheer when Lancers rocked up with their rare mechs to wow them into blowing up government tanks! Argh!
"Commander, I am detecting a sharp spike in your blood pressure. Do you require immediate medical attention?"
"Er, no. I'm fine Veronica, thank you for asking." Right, I was getting a little too carried away there. A bit on the verge of setting up a conspiracy board complete with push pins and strings to try and measure out the conspiracy of the setting against me.
I had to focus on trying to perhaps...fuck me, like I just said, I can't just decline the position. But really, I can't go ahead with this! I'm not a born leader or something, no way could I try to do anything forward like this! Was it too much to politely request a quiet life of all things?
Heck, why did they even pick me? What did they see in me? I laid an arm over my eyes for a brief moment to try and rest my head for a few seconds, only to hear Veronica quietly turning on a screen in my office to an apparent local news channel. One that was an interview with a woman who definitely was at odds with me at our first encounter.
"Why do the reformists support a foreign-candidate? Would a native-born citizen not be somebody you would prefer first?"
"Yet our constitution lists that so long as one is a citizen, one is eligible for office. Something that Commander Moores is, making him qualified all the same in my eyes," Chloe smoothly responded on the television. "His victory over former colleagues demonstrates a willingness to stand up and speak for us- which the reformists value most of all. So he had my vote."
The channel shifted to another interview, one that showed somebody that I did have support from the very beginning from in the beginning. "Why'd our folks vote for the governor? Because he did right by us, and right by other folks too!" Kyle insisted to what had to be a very similar question. "Thanks to him deciding to reach out a hand, he helped out Harrison Armory and now we're going to probably be on friendly terms. No reason to spoil that now, so all us progressives voted for him!"
Veronica continued the channels, chowing off multiple other elected representatives defending their choice of vote to various anchors and reporters. They cited a sense of confidence in their pick. A sense of trust. A sense of...belief that I could be somebody they wanted to keep working with to achieve their hopes of building a place for everybody.
...Huh. I never imagined it that way, that folks just also wanted to have a safe and comfortable lives themselves. Not just me. So they were going to count on somebody who apparently showed the path to guide them down it too.
I felt something prickled in my eyes when I looked at the footage of so many expressing their hopes and realized that if I were to turn them all down...then I'd probably be the bad guy then. The one Lancers were sent after for dashing all those dreams. Which really put me then in a corner with only way out if I didn't want a team of crack mech pilots after me.
The NHP surreptitiously tuned to a final broadcast that showed an annoyed-looking Erica being seemingly interrupted mid-smoke by a nosy reporter. "Moores being elected Premier? Fine, guess he's got the balls for it, and he won't piss off Harrison Armory. Though if he does, I'll come after him then and light a fire under his ass for it."
Right, um. I think that's the last bit of motivation I needed. Because it wouldn't just be a team of Lancers.
It'd be a team of Lancers headed by a woman who probably would set me on fire if I refused the position. And frankly speaking, I liked having unscorched cheeks.
Fuck me. Guess I'm now Premier-Commander. Oh hell, even the title alone sounds sketchy. I'd have to ask if congress could give me something less egotistical.