All is Fair Ch. 02

"You already know that," Valdek snapped. "Tell me what was missing. Tell me what you see!"

Michael frowned, replaying the battle over and over in his head. "Where was our support?" he finally asked, the realization starting to dawn on him like a crisp winter sun. "The air wing at least should have been reinforced... and where were the medivacs? They should have been landing non-stop throughout the engagement to evacuate the wounded and provide gunship support."

Valdek nodded. "This... isn't going to be pleasant, but you need to hear it."

He reached over and tapped another icon on the interface.

"...fuck are you doing?! We are friendlies! Oh, Jesus!" Gunfire rattled around the background of the audio file Vadlek was playing for him, a woman's voice screaming breathlessly into the comms. "Fuck, Mario, No!... Shit, shit, shit! All fighter wings, this is Scimitar One, stay away from the carrier. Ground crews are executing all returning pilots, I repeat, we've been betrayed!" More gunfire rattled through the background. "Get the hell out of here! Save yourselves, warn the others before... Argh!" The channel was cut off mid-scream.

"We intercepted that from one of your air wings," Valdek sighed softly.

The color had drained from Michaels' face. "The map, access to our systems, the lack of support, no medevacs, executing our pilots... They sent us here to die!... why? It doesn't make sense! Why would they send us to be slaughtered?"

"Think about it, Andre," Valdek finally answered the increasingly horrified and frantic-looking Michaels. "What would have happened if you had won here?"

"I don't know, the rebellion would have been destroyed?"

"Well, no, the rebellion isn't just on this planet, but you're thinking along the right lines. The Imperium tells the people that the rebels are killing war heroes and ambushing supply convoys to the long-suffering colonists of Orpheus IV, so they locate the rebel homeworld... the exact thing they told you... and send in the Marines, probably using the excuse of friendly civilians being the area to rule out an orbital bombardment, as if that has stopped them before... and then the Marines win... war over, right?"

Michaels nodded mutely.

"So then, how would they justify the military expeditions they have planned for the future?"

The colonel's jaw finally fell open in understanding. "By wiping out a Marine division, the rebels get turned into an existential threat, and 15,000 dead marines is all the reason the people need to support the Imperium's call for unconditional war."

Valdek nodded. "And the public is none-the-wiser that the rebellion isn't just a handful of wayward and treasonous criminals, but almost every system in the entire Spiral arm of the Imperium."

"What!?!"

"Two hundred and thirty-two colonial governments have seceded from the Imperium, Andre. And the people have no idea. Just that there is a rebellion."

"But that's.. Almost ten percent of the entire Imperium."

Valdek nodded. "And ten percent of the population can't all be criminals; they must have a legitimate cause to leave. Not even the Imperium's propaganda division can spin that one, so news about the whole thing has been suppressed."

Silence fell on the room. Michaels' mouth opened and closed itself as questions came into his mind, only for the obvious answer to dawn on him before he had a chance to ask it. Valdek knew his friend well enough to let him work these things out for himself.

"Why did the rebels go along with it?" Michaels finally asked. "This information falls into their laps; they know it's a trap; why did they play along?"

"What was the alternative?" Valdek asked with a huffed breath. "It was a win-win situation for the Emperor. Either the Marines win, there is one less rebel planet, and they try the tactic again on the next, or the Marines lose, and the call for unending war goes out to the massed baying for revenge."

"But..." Michaels' brow furrowed again after another few quiet moments. "Why did you defect?"

Valdek's soft smile faded. "Because the Emperor killed Danijel."

"Dan, your son?" Michaels asked as his eyes widened, any thoughts of a headache well and truly gone.

Valdek swallowed hard. "What they did here to the Marines, they did to the Navy at 16-Liyra. Vice-Admiral Wainwright told me. He was ordered to attack a rebel fleet, a full battlegroup against a handful of cruisers, a few destroyers, and a squadron of corvettes. They were under orders to block all rebel comms, issue no warning or demand to surrender, they were to make an example out of a rebel fleet that was threatening an Imperium colony. Wainwright, of course, followed those orders. When the battle was finished, the 'rebel' fleet was completely destroyed with the loss of all hands... Wainwright was then supposed to leave and let the Internal Security Division handle the cleanup, but he was curious and scanned the destroyed rebel ships. It was part of the 8th home defense fleet. My son was aboard the ISS Birmingham."

"Jesus, Serge. I'm... I'm sorry."

"A few days later, the news broke. The 8th defense fleet had engaged an invading rebel armada and destroyed it over 16 Liyra with the loss of..."

"A handful of cruisers, et cetera," Michaels finished for him.

"They called them heroes. Said they made the ultimate sacrifice for the security and the safety of the people of the Imperium." Valdek spat, his eyes welling up. "But it was a lie. Their own people murdered them. Wainwright was quietly removed from his post for scanning the wrecks. He would probably be shot if they knew what he had told me."

"Do they?"

"Know?" Serge looked up. "I don't know. My credentials don't really allow me access to the Imperium comm networks these days."

Micheals nodded slowly before guiding the conversation away from an understandable, painful subject. "So the Imperium is quietly dealing with a secession crisis that the public doesn't know about. And to justify a conflict on the scale that would be needed to destroy the rebellion, it is orchestrating atrocities committed by the rebels as a call to war."

"I'm sorry it was your Division, Andre," Valdek sighed as he nodded.

"I'm sorry, it was Dan, old friend. He was a good man."

"Yeah," Valdek forced an agonized smile onto his face as a tear rolled down his cheek. "He was."

********

Bethany. 2

"Tragedy in the outer rings!" the deep, masculine voice of the news anchorman announced on the screens built into every wall in Jango's bar. "Fifteen thousand of the Imperium's Marines, the entire 381st Division, Massacred while on a routine training exercise!" The growing murmurs of outrage rippled through the bar as Bethany turned on her barstool to watch. The entire crowd in the usually rowdy Jango's bar had been hushed to silence as the news broke. "With me now is General Marius Kincaid, commanding officer of the 381st. Thank you for joining us, General."

"Thank you for having me, Jeremy." A haggard and drawn-looking older man in a full dress uniform appeared on screen for a moment before the handsome face of Jeremy Freeman filled the feed again.

"General, I can't imagine the grief you are dealing with at the moment, but please, in your own words, can you tell the people at home what happened."

The General took a deep breath and nodded. "The 381st was one of the finest Divisions I have ever had the privilege of leading. A better-trained and more dedicated group of men and women couldn't be asked for, or even imagined. The day I was appointed as their commanding officer was one of the proudest of my life."

"I can tell they meant a great deal to you, General." Jeremy nodded sympathetically

"I am a military man, Mr. Freeman," the General nodded. "I chose to serve the Imperium instead of starting my own family, but the men and women under my command were like children to me. Yesterday, as part of their ongoing training and combat readiness program, they were simulating an assault on a fortified position on the planet of Garros II, an uninhabited planet on the inner edge of the outer ring."

Jeremy nodded again, paying rapt attention as was every single patron in the bar around Bethany.

The General swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bouncing visibly above his stiff, formal collar. "At approximately 1500 hours, local time, communication between the ground forces conducting the simulation and its support fleet was lost. At 1630 hours, the Admiral in charge of the naval forces ordered a detachment of the fleet's crew to fly down to the planet to reestablish contact with the Marine expeditionary forces under the command of Colonel Andre Michaels. They reported back that the entire area of operation had been destroyed in a single, massive explosion, killing the entire 381st Division."

"Oh my god," Jeremy gasped, as did almost every set of lips in the bar. "How?"

"Investigations are still being carried out, but preliminary tests show evidence of a massive Anti-matter explosion in the area where they were conducting their landings. We are, I'm sorry to say, able to confirm that there were no survivors and a devastating amount of damage has been done to the local area, hindering our investigation."

"General Kincaid. I hate to be the one to ask difficult questions, but how did the rebels even know about this training exercise?"

The General shook his head. "That is a matter for the investigation, but - and please forgive me for speaking out of turn - it is clear that this attack against peaceful Imperium forces had been planned well in advance of the exercise, meaning that they were given the classified details for it by someone on the inside."

"Are you saying there was a traitor involved in this massacre?"

"Unfortunately, that is exactly what I am saying, Jeremy," the General almost growled. "And when... not if... when we find out who they are, they will be subjected to the full measure of the Emperor's justice!"

"Yes, as they should be," Jeremy nodded. "General, please allow me to be the first to offer my deepest condolences for the loss of your men in this most cowardly attack. I think I speak for everyone when I say that the people of the Imperium are behind you and wish you luck in your investigation."

"Thank you, Mr. Freeman."

"General Kincaid, thank you for joining us today."

The wall of sound that usually filled bars like this one seemed to descend on the room as soon as the report had finished. Most were in outrage and indignation at such an attack being carried out by traitors and rebels. Some in whispered horror at such a huge number of Marines being killed so callously, but already, there were one or two raised in calls for war. Bethany doubted that the local recruitment offices of the Imperium Navy would struggle to reach their quotas for the next few days at least.

With a troubled smile on her face, Bethany turned back to her drink, picking up the stem of her glass and swirling the colorful liquid around in it. There was one very large flaw in the Imperium's official story: she had passed through the Garros system on her way here, and there was no sign of an Imperium fleet anywhere near it. But then, maybe the location of the real massacre was being kept hidden for other reasons. Either way, it didn't matter. War could be said to be on the horizon most days in the Imperium, but she recognized the first sparks when she saw it, and judging by the increasingly rowdy mob in the bar - a scene that was doubtlessly being mirrored in thousands of other establishments throughout Imperium space - a war against rebel cowards was exactly what they would be getting.

But most of them had never seen war, not up close. Perhaps a few people in this room would follow up on their boastful, alcohol-induced pledges to join up the next morning, and perhaps a few of those would make it to the front lines, either in the Fleet or in the Marine Corps. Those brave few would learn very quickly that no sane person ever wishes for war after they have seen one up close.

Bethany had seen one up close, and she had no desire to repeat the experience, no matter how justifiable. As reasons to commence the wholesale slaughter of their fellow man went, though, the massacre of an entire Marine Division was certainly up there.

On a more personal and pragmatic note, though, war was both good and bad for business. It meant a massive ramp-up in demand for some of the more exotic cargos, and with an increase in demand came an increase in profits. But it also meant more security checks, more queues, and a huge chunk of space was about to become very dangerous territory to work in.

Still, she had her hold full of cargo, and thanks to the ever-pleasant Usaf, she would be in the core worlds a few million credits better off. With any luck, she could ride out the war with little hops between planets well within the fortress of the Inner ring.

She looked up and around the bar as she drained the last of her drink; a familiar face appeared in the crowd as he approached. "Hello, Tony," she smiled at him.

"Miss Jenson, fancy seeing you here."

She chuckled and gave him a once-over glance. The kid scrubbed up well.

"Can I get you a drink?" He asked hopefully.

Bethany sighed quietly. With war probably only a few days away from being openly declared, she could find herself extraordinarily busy for the foreseeable future. It could be months, maybe longer before she found herself on a friendly planet for long enough to enjoy herself.

"No thanks," she smiled at the young guard's crestfallen face. "I'd prefer you sober when you fuck my brains out. C'mon, let's go." She grabbed the stunned kid's hand and dragged him out of the bar. If there was ever a time to get some stress-relieving dick, it was now.

Besides, maybe blowing Tony's mind would be fun.

********

Histories and Lore

Aside from the obvious need for a faster-than-light engine to accelerate mankind's expansion into the stars, there were a few key pieces of technology that were, perhaps, even more important in humanity's great leap forward.

There were, of course, the obvious things. Things that sci-fi writers had hypothesized about for centuries; water and oxygen recycling systems, artificial gravity deckplates, some form of beyond-sight sensors, and navigation computers capable of handling the intricacies of slip-space travel. But there were still more pieces of technology that many of mankind's early dreamers had not taken into account.

The first issue to be overcome was that of communication. Pre-slip space travel, every single form of communication employed by this fledgling race - from radio communication to fiber optics - traveled, literally, at the speed of light. By definition, this meant that any ship using a faster-than-light engine was traveling faster than any signal it was broadcasting. It was faster to send a ship to deliver a message than it was just to send one. In many cases, it was much faster.

The nearest strategically important star system to Sol was Alpha Centauri; it was a little under four and a half lightyears away. A standard civilian ship could make that journey in just over six hours; a military vessel with top-of-the-line tech could do it in five. A standard broadcast signal, however, would take a little under four and a half years. Hence the name of that measurement of distance. It is the distance light could travel in a year; the standard signals traveled at the speed of light... ipso facto... four and half years to deliver a message when a ship could do it in six hours.

The solution to this was called the Ansible system. The Ansible was a long-theorized piece of fundamentally unachievable piece of technology, able to transmit unlimited amounts of data over any distance, near-instantaneously. Simple physics, of course, rendered that idea moot, but the name was just exotic enough to stick.

The actual Ansible system was a network of interconnected comm buoys dotted around Imperium space at regular intervals, each one containing a massive singularity reactor. A standard signal was used to send a message from the point of origin, let's say Earth, to the first buoy, where it was compressed into a data stream while a computer plotted the course it would need to take through the buoy network to reach its target. The data stream would then be charged with superluminal tachyon particles harvested from the singularity and then blasted out into space in the direction of the next comm buoy. The speed of the signal would degrade over such huge distances though, hence the need for there to be a network of buoys. Each one would collect the data stream, recharge it with particles, and then send it on its way. As the technology was streamlined and advanced, as all technology does, it became possible for the delay to be measured in fractions of a second when a signal was sent over the entire length of Imperium space. A distance that meant a message received today by conventional signals would need to have been transmitted before the Dinosaurs were walking the earth.

The second piece of technology was dramatically introduced to mankind after the Archimedes incident, only a few decades after humanity ventured en masse into the stars. The story, as it is told, says that one of the first manned missions to Dione, one of Saturn's larger moons, suddenly disappeared. It became one of the mysteries of man's early space adventures in the same vein as the Mary Celeste. Five years after its disappearance, the Archimedes was finally found.

The entire crew had been eviscerated.

After a long and exhaustive investigation that considered such imaginative causes as a terrorist plot, and attack by a hostile alien species, it was discovered that the ship had flown into a near-invisible cloud of hyper-velocity micro-meteorites. They had punctured the hull in several hundred places and, like a shotgun blast at close range, had reduced the crew to the human equivalent of Swiss cheese.

Of course, these days, it is easy for us who know better to find such obviousnesses as self-evident, but it must be remembered that centuries of pop culture had convinced the neonate spacefaring species that space was, in fact, completely empty. Just an unfathomably vast void, punctuated by the odd star system and the pretty colors of passing nebulae.

There are countless hazards floating around the vacuum of space that makes space travel incredibly dangerous; those dangers are increased massively the faster a ship is traveling. From those same clouds of micro-meteorites to combustible gasses in nebulae to miniature black holes right up to wandering comets and vast fields of stationary yet still dangerous cosmic dust. Hitting a particle of rock the same size as a grain of sand will still put a hole in the strongest of hulls if it is traveling many times the speed of light.

To combat these, the repulsor or deflector shields were invented. Deflector shields, however, are nowhere near powerful enough to protect against modern anti-ship weaponry. These shields are present on every classification of stellar vessel, from the lowly shuttle to the massive Super-Carriers, and variants have been found on vessels of every single other space-faring species. They are designed to protect a ship from anything that would normally threaten the hull, deflecting it away from the ship as it travels through space. Just like defensive shields, it is almost impossible for any solid matter to pass through them, and the more velocity the object has, the less chance it has of penetrating the shield. As weak as these shields are, they are still powerful enough to stop a round from a MAC cannon at close range and, as part of any fleet combat action, would need to be taken down by energy weapons before ballistic weaponry can be brought to bear. It is one of the reasons why ballistic weaponry is relatively rare in a ship's arsenal.